April Showers
by kittensandcombatboots
Summary: AU/AH Sookie meets Eric after breaking up with her boyfriend, but one thing stands in the way of them being together: Pam. Rated M for future chapters
1. 7 Going On 27

A/N: I've never written an SVM story, so I'm terrified about whether or not it's any good. If I get some kind of response, then I'll keep going. If not, I'll pull it.

Disclaimer: I don't own SVM. It's not mine.

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The perfect way to get over being cheated on by a pasty idiot is, of course, to go out, get drunk, and hook up with someone way hotter. At least that's what Amelia told me again and again as she looked through my closet for an acceptable outfit for our night out. I was just going to wear my favorite LBD. She told me that looked like I was in mourning over what I'd lost when I should be celebrating. Amelia put me in a strapless red dress that grazed my knees.

It was the kind of dress my ex would have hated. He liked me in pastels and full-length gowns and smiling demurely. He probably would have had an aneurysm if he saw me in red silk.

As it was, I almost had an aneurysm seeing myself in the dress. It had been two years since I'd worn anything like it, and I had forgotten how good red looked against my tan skin. My blonde hair fell in soft, natural waves over my bare shoulders. I'm really not a vain person—my Gran would whip me if I ever acted proud—but I felt hot, not just beautiful, for the first time in years.

Maybe Amelia was right. Maybe this was what I needed.

The club she was taking me to was only a few blocks from our apartment—and it was such a gorgeous spring night—that we decided to walk. I put flip flops on and my heels in my purse, only switching when we were a block away. Ames knew (AKA had sex with) the bouncer at the club, so we got dirty looks from all the people in line when we were let in without even having to pay the cover.

Tray Dawson, Amelia's friend with benefits, seemed nice enough. He had been over to the apartment a few times, even made me French toast once. Bill, the cheating ex, hated Tray; he kept implying that Tray was trying to get into my pants, and that I was letting him.

But I had to push all those thoughts away. This was not a night be dragged down by two years of lies. This was a night to remind myself that breaking up with him was the best decision I could have made for myself.

Amelia and I downed drinks before going to the dance floor. After five bass-thumping songs, I needed a break. Ames found a booth, while I went to the bathroom. I took care of business, washed up, and checked my make up in the mirror. When I was standing back in the hallway, I heard a high pitched scream coming from a door down the hall.

I walked to the door unsure of what to do, and then I heard another scream. It sounded like a young girl, one way too young to be at a club. I turned the knob, but it was locked, so I started knocking frantically. Call it maternal instinct or something, but I knew something was wrong.

The door suddenly yanked open. "Daddy?"

I looked at the girl standing in front of me. She was thin and tall, though she couldn't have been more than eight. She had straight blonde hair and scared blue eyes.

"I'm not your dad," I replied, too thrown off by the sight of her to think clearly.

"Well, no duh, Sherlock. One, you're not a man. Two, my dad's like a foot taller than you. And three, he would look awful in that dress," the little blonde replied. "But it looks good on you."

"Thanks," I said. Who was this girl? She certainly was a snarky, little thing. "How old are you? Why are you at a club?" There was no person alive that would sneak her in or believe a fake ID, though she seemed daring enough just to try.

"I'm seven. And my dad owns it. Why are you here? Are you looking for a hook-up?"

I gasped. "I don't think that's something I should be discussing with a seven-year-old."

The girl smiled at me. "So, yes. That's why everyone goes to clubs. At least that's what my dad says. Alexei says that the girls come here to hook up with Dad, but who knows if he's telling the truth or not."

"Alexei is your brother?" I asked, trying to follow her story. It barely registered in the back of my mind that I had left Amelia a good ten minutes ago and that she would probably be wondering where I was, but this girl was too entertaining to just walk away from.

"No, Alexei is my uncle. Duh," she informed in a voice that suggested I was dumb for even asking the question, as if I should know this girl's family history from memory.

"How was I supposed to know that?" I asked, a little perturbed by her attitude.

She threw her head back and barked out a laugh. "I'll give you that one. Plus, he's only eight years older than me, so he would very well be my brother. I'm Pam, by the way." The girl, Pam apparently, held out her small hand for me to shake.

"Sookie."

"Sookie?" She raised her eyebrows and stared at me. "What kind of name is Sookie?"

"The one my parents gave me." Pam laughed again.

"I like you. You should meet my dad."

"Speaking of which, didn't he ever tell you not to talk to strangers?" I asked. Pam smiled wide.

"I did, but she has a mind of her own."

I spun around at the sound of a deep male voice. My eyes stared straight ahead at a black dress shirt. I had to look up, and then up again, before I saw his face. Messy blond hair and sparkling blue eyes. Holy hell, he was beautiful. I lost all capacity for mental function as I stared at him. His lips started moving, but I didn't hear a word he said. He was staring at me expectantly, but I had no idea what I was supposed to do or say.

"Oh brother," I heard Pam say behind me. "Her name is Sookie. Weird, I know, but you named me Pamela, so who am I to judge."

I glanced back at Pam. "Are you sure that you are just seven? You're way smarter than any of the seven-year-olds I know."

"How many do you know?"

"About two hundred. I'm the librarian at an elementary school."

She nodded her head as if I had just passed some sort of secret initiation test. "I skipped a few grades." I opened my mouth to ask how many, but she anticipated that. "Two. I'm in fourth grade."

"Geez Louise. What are you reading?"

I heard someone clear their throat, causing me to jump. And him to chuckle. I had forgotten all about him being there—it seems impossible, I know, but it happened.

"I'm sorry," I replied, turning back to him. "You probably don't want some crazy stranger talking to your daughter and asking her questions. I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to…I just, I heard her scream, and I thought she might me hurt. And then I was wondering what a child was doing here. And she's just so…snarky. Or maybe spunky is a better word." I realized about halfway through my spiel that I was rambling, but I was nervous and couldn't force my mouth shut to save my life. "Either way, she's a great kid. And I'm just going to…"

I tried to walk away, but a warm hand gripped my upper arm. He spun me around so we were in this little triangle, all facing each other.

"It's fine. Pam actually seems to like you, which is rare. She hates everyone." Pam stuck her tongue out at him, and I laughed. Then his face got serious. "You were screaming?" he asked her.

Pam shrugged. "I had a nightmare."

"The same…" She nodded. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah. Sookie was distracting me." She smiled. "You should get her a drink to thank her."

"That sounds like a good idea, Pam." I could feel my cheeks flush under his stare. "Shall we, Sookie?" A chill went down my spine at the sound of my name in his deep voice.

I would have followed him to my death.

"Oh, and Sookie," Pam said. I turned to look at you. "Don't hook up with my dad. I like you, but not that much."

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A/N: Tell me what you think. Should I keep it around?


	2. Gin and Tonic and Chicken Pox

A/N: Wow. Thank you all for the reviews. This chapter is still a pretty short one, but they should start getting longer. Oh, and I forgot to mention it, but the title of this story comes from the song "April Showers" by Jon Black.

Disclaimer: I don't own SVM. I'm just playing around.

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My cheeks were still burning ten shades of red when Mr. Ridiculously Handsome—Pam's father, whatever; I still didn't know his name—led me to the bar. As if Pam's comment wasn't bad enough, he had his hand on my lower back, and it felt like my skin was burning. I never knew that it was possible to want to jump someone so badly from such an innocent touch. I certainly hadn't felt that way before. I wasn't a virgin by any means, but I could barely force myself to walk instead of push him against a wall and have my way with him.

Mr. Magic Hands nodded at the bartender, and he was immediately in front of us. Pam had said that her dad owned the club. Apparently she was telling the truth, because the staff was at his beck and call.

"Chow, get Sookie a…" he trailed off and looked at me. Gah, those eyes. The polar icecaps could melt just by him looking at them for too long; they were making me puddle.

"Uh. Gin and tonic?" I don't know why it came out as a question. Gin and tonic is all I ever drink. Amelia constantly makes fun of me for it, but I know what I like and don't feel the need to try one of the silly drinks that she loves.

A few seconds later, Chow placed the drink in front of me.

"Thanks," I said to him. He nodded and walked off, leaving me alone with Mr. Generous. "And thank you…" I trailed off, hoping I would finally be able to stop making up stupid nicknames for him.

"Eric. Northman."

"Well, thank you, Mr. Northman."

He smirked and leaned down to whisper in my ear. "Come with me." And, oh dear lord, I knew I was in trouble. I needed an ice cold shower and several Sunday sermons at the First Baptist Church to cool off. I'm sure he meant it innocently, but that's not the way my body reacted to it at all. I shivered, literally shivered, and I'm pretty sure I ruined my favorite red lacy panties. All I could think of was him being on top of me in bed and saying the same spine-tingling words.

I just nodded, tongue-tied once again.

It was either complete silence or verbal diarrhea with this man. I needed to find a balance and quick. I had been out of practice for too long. I used to be great at flirting before Bill. Honestly.

He led me through the crowds, which parted like Moses and the Red Sea at his mere presence, and toward a booth. Somehow, miracle of all miracles, I caught Amelia's eye. Her jaw dropped as she ogled Eric Northman like he was made for her viewing pleasure. And then she smiled at me and mouthed, "Get some."

I giggled, blushed, and used my hands to cover my face all at the same time. Eric's long fingers slid around to my hip as he leaned down, his hot breath tickling my neck and shoulder. "What has caused such a reaction, and would it be possible to duplicate it?"

I laughed again, but it was shaky. "It was just my friend."

We stopped walking and Eric slid into a booth, signaling for me to join him. He didn't need to tell me twice. I took a quick sip of my drink and sat down.

"Your friend? You are here with someone?" he asked.

I stared at the highball glass, worried that if I met his eyes I'd go mentally bankrupt again. "Yeah, my best friend Amelia. She knows your bouncer. We're out celebrating."

"And what, pray tell, are you celebrating?"

He sounded genuinely curious, so I forced myself to be the good country girl I was raised to be and meet his gaze, though, I doubted Gran would approve of what I was about to say. "I broke up with the bastard who's been cheating on me with his skanky, whorish ex."

"That is something to celebrate." I took another sip and offered my glass to him. I thought he was going to refuse it, but, just as I was about to put it down, he took it from my hand, his fingertips brushing against mine. His Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed, and I couldn't look away. Damn. Who knew an Adam's apple could be that hot?

"This is how people get mono," he said as he handed it back. "Or chicken pox."

"I got chicken pox when I was six, so I don't think I need to worry about that."

He did that little smirk thing again. "So, you told Pam you were a librarian?"

"Yeah, at Hillsdale Elementary School. Pam said you owned this club?"

He nodded. "Yes. I've owned it all of her life." He laughed once. "The couch in my office even pulls out into a bed because she used to take all her afternoon naps there before she started school. My brother was supposed to watch her, but he is a little delinquent and won't answer his phone. That's why she's here tonight. She should be in bed by now; she has school tomorrow."

He was justifying himself to me, which wasn't necessary.

"It's obvious she loves you. You must be doing something right."

He shrugged. "I try." Then he stole my highball again and took a swig. "I don't usually talk about her. I mean, I'm not using her to try and pick you up."

I laughed out loud at that. "Oh, I know. She doesn't seem like the kind to be used. Plus, she'd beat me down if I tried anything with you."

He leaned forward, his forearms resting on the table top. "I don't know what she told you, but she doesn't know what hooking up means." He sighed. "Unless Alexei told her. God, I'll kill him."

Don't get me wrong, I would have loved to get him into bed or against a wall or anywhere really, but I had just gotten out of a long, disastrous relationship. All I wanted was a quick fuck—and Eric looked more than capable of taking care of my needs—but I didn't see that happening with him tonight.

Maybe he and I could be friends or something. Yeah right, me and Mr. Sexy Lips as friends. Like that wouldn't happen.

Eric glanced over my shoulder, and I turned around to see Amelia standing there with an apologetic smile. "Can I borrow her for a second?" she asked.

"If you must." He smirked again as I got up to leave.

I followed Amelia to the bathroom, feeling frustrated and flustered and fucked. He had a daughter. A terrifyingly intelligent daughter who was sleeping in his office. He even seemed relatively interested, but it's not like we could go back to his house. Or mine.

"Tray and I got into a fight. I'm going home, but you're more than welcome to stay," she told me as she fluffed her hair before putting on another coat of her favorite pink lip gloss.

"No, I'll come with you. It's not going to happen. I mean, he's…unhhhh, but it's not going to happen. Not tonight at least."

"You're going to tell me all about you and Tall, Pale, and Sexy?"

"Yep, at home." I sighed. "Let me just go say goodbye."

"I'll hold you to that."

I felt my stomach doing flips as I walked back toward the booth. His legs were stretched out in front of him, and his arms dangling over the back of his seat. That's when I realized just how massive he was. Pam was right. He had to be at least a foot taller than me. Jiminy Cricket. I physically shook my head to get the image of him being wrapped around me to stop playing.

"You're leaving?" he asked.

How in the hell did he know that? "Yeah, girl emergency." Not entirely true, but easier on the tongue than 'As much as I want to blow you, you have a small child asleep a few feet away, and I don't even know if you're completely single.'

"What a pity. For me."

I bit the inside of my cheek nervously. "Thank you for the drink. Tell Pam goodbye for me."

I turned to walk away. "Maybe I'll see you again."

"Yeah. Maybe."

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A/N: No Pam, but Eric and Sookie actually talking, so I think it balances out. Tell me what you think.


	3. Hell in a Rabbit Hole

A/N: Another new chapter for you all. It's a little bit longer. I have a question for anyone reading this: I have the next chapter set to be written from Eric's POV. The question is would you all prefer the story to be exclusively from Sookie's viewpoint and have Eric's POV be outtakes? Or do you want a mixture? It's really up to you all. I could do it either way.

Disclaimer: SVM is not mine.

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Inspired by the feeling I got from wearing red silk, I decided to wear a ruby-colored wrap dress to work the next day. Apparently red is bad luck for me. I may have looked great, but my day was anything but. I overslept and didn't have time for anything more than a cup of coffee, which was lukewarm at best. I had one sip before I gave up on breakfast.

I should have just downed the stuff, because I forgot that this was Book Week—my brilliant idea to get all the kids reading more—and I was nowhere near lively enough to handle elementary school kids by the dozen all itching for a suggestion. I love my kids—they are why I decided to become a librarian at a public elementary school when I could make much more at a private school or even a university—but I just couldn't deal with it.

Then, I finally got a break to go get lunch and caffeine, and I made the mistake of turning on my cell phone to check my messages. 6 misssed calls. 24 text messages. All from Bill. Sadly, I hadn't upgraded my phone in a while and the only way to delete all his messages was to open them. They ranged from controlled anger ("Sookie, we need to talk.") to desperate ("I love you, honey. Please talk to me. Please.") to pissed ("Stop being such a whiny bitch about this and call me back."). I finally deleted them all, but not before completely decimating any hope that today would turn out decently.

He and I didn't have anything left to talk about. I caught him cheating with that…woman in the same bed we had sex in the night before. He's just lucky I didn't have a weapon at the time, because I'm fairly confident that I would have had a rage blackout, like the ones Summer from The OC said she suffered from. What? Amelia had every season on DVD and made me watch them all before she announced us as officially friends.

I finally went to the cafeteria and ate something posing as chicken fried steak, but all those texts just reminded me of what he had done. I felt queasy until the last bell rang announcing the end of the school day.

When I got into my car, I knew exactly where I was driving. It was my favorite place in all of Shreveport, the first place that I was able to feel at home. Bon Temps, my hometown, was only, like, an hour away, but sometimes it felt much farther. This small used book store down town made me not feel so alone. It always cheered me up.

The drive only took ten minutes, but by the time I got there I knew which book I wanted to get. _Alice's Adventures in Wonderland_. My Gran read to me from her copy the first night after my parent's funeral. I thought that I had grown out of the need for it—it had always kind of been my security blanket, my escape from the real world—but I guess I was wrong. All I wanted to do was get the book, curl up in my bed with a pint of Stephen Colbert's Americone Dream, and forget this shitty day and Bill Compton.

The universe had other plans.

The old bell on the door shook as I walked into Paperback Heaven. Seriously, that's what the store's called. The comforting scent of old, worn books calmed my frazzled nerves instantly. I walked straight past Claudine, the owner, and went to the back corner where all the children's books were shelved.

When I turned into the aisle I saw her and gasped. Pam. She was wearing a navy skirt and light blue polo shirt, obviously part of a school uniform. And she looked miserable.

"Hey, Pam," I said gently.

She turned to look at me, her eyes steely, determined. "Sookie."

"What are you doing here?" I asked. She looked like she had an even worse day than I did, if that was even possible. What do seven-year-olds know about bad days?

"Scuba diving. What does it look like I'm doing? I'm buying a book."

I wanted to snap back, tell her that I didn't appreciate her attitude, but I was too emotionally drained to put up that much effort. "How was your day?"

"Swell. I live a very fulfilling life."

"Cut the crap, Pam." I sighed. "You look like you're having a bad day. Do you want to tell me about it?"

She leaned against one of the bookshelves and stared me down. "What are you? Dear Abby? I tell you all my problems, and you tell me how to fix my life?"

"How do you even know about Dear Abby?"

"I taught myself to read when I was three using old newspapers since my dad wouldn't let me borrow his books."

Three? Geez Louise. I don't even remember being three, but I knew I didn't learn to read until kindergarten. "If you don't want to tell me, that's fine. I'll just get my book and get out of your way."

I followed the Cs until I find Carroll. I pulled the book from shelf and turned to leave.

"People are mean."

I pivoted around to face her. She was staring at the bookshelves, her fingers tracing along the spines. "Why?"

"I don't know," she replied. "I'm not a mind reader. I didn't do anything to them. But they're meaner than the kids at my other school."

"I'm sorry."

"I don't need your pity."

"I wasn't…That's not what I meant." I sighed. I still didn't know how to treat her. She may have been seven physically, but she was much older intellectually. Emotionally, though, she seemed closer to a child than an adult. I decided to switch tactics. "I had a bad day too. Reading always makes me feel better."

"Why'd you have a bad day?" She didn't sound particularly interested, but I told her anyway. I needed to tell someone.

"My ex-boyfriend keeps calling me. I'm afraid to turn on my phone and see how many messages he left. And he might show up at my apartment."

"That blows."

I laughed. "Yeah, it does."

A tall, lanky teenage boy entered our aisle then. He was wearing navy pants and a similar polo shirt to Pam's, but he was way older, maybe sixteen. "What the hell, Pam? You said five minutes, not fifteen. Eric's already pissed at me. Let's go." She rolled her eyes and let the auburn haired boy lead her out.

"Bye, Sookie."

I looked at the book in my hands for several long minutes after they left. I was a grown woman. I didn't need a crutch, no matter how much I wanted one.

Maybe I had outgrown it, but I knew someone who could still use it. I can't really explain my motivation, but I bought _Alice's Adventures in Wonderland_.

Instead of going back to my apartment or turn on my phone, I went to a diner down the street and ate a greasy dinner of a Swiss and mushroom burger and French fries. I'd have to go for an extra-long run tomorrow morning, but the temporary comfort made up for any later inconvenience.

While finishing the last few fries in the basket, I had to mentally prepare myself for what I was about to do: purposely seek out Eric.

I had stayed up two hours after leaving Glasir, Eric's club, talking to Amelia. I managed to distract her for at least an hour by bringing up Tray, even though I was still foggy on why exactly they were fighting. Eventually, she refused to even speak Tray's name and made me tell her about Eric, even though the story was more about Pam. Ames kept asking if I was going to see him again, and I told her probably not. I had meant it at the time.

For real.

I wasn't going back for myself. I was going back for Pam. That was my story and I was sticking to it. In fact, it was all I thought of the entire drive to Glasir, even though I had my iPod playing my Mellow playlist. Because it was early, I managed to find a parking spot pretty close, so I could get in and out quickly. I even lucked out with Tray being at the door, and he wasn't pissed enough at Amelia to not let me in. I paid the cover this time and glanced around for the Viking of a man.

I didn't see him anywhere, so I decided to risk it and go knock on the door I had found Pam behind the day before. He had said it was his office. If he wasn't out here, surely he'd be back there, if he was here at all.

I paused at the door, all my nerves catching up with me at once. What kind of person buys a book for a little kid that she barely knows? What if he thought I was weird? What if she didn't like the book? Or already had it?

I was still standing there with my hand raised when the door opened in front of me.

"Sookie?"

Sweet Jesus, he was standing right there wearing tight jeans and a gray t-shirt. And, oh crap, did he catch me ogling him? The raised eye brow would point to yes.

"H-hi. Eric." Get it together, Stackhouse. "I was actually wondering if I could have a minute of your time." There. Better. A little bit.

"You may have all the minutes you wish." He smirked. "Please join me in my office."

Eric walked back into the room without waiting for my reply. He sat behind a large desk, gesturing to one of the chairs in front of him. I sat down quickly but not before spying a black leather couch against the back wall, the one he said folded out into a bed.

Lord. Being alone with him was a bad idea.

"Now, Sookie," he said, clearing my mind of the dirty fantasies I was entertaining. "Why did you come to see me?"

I reached into my purse and pulled out the book, handing it over to him. He stared at it as if it was in a foreign language. "Did Pam tell you that I saw her today?" Not what I planned on leading with, but it worked.

"No." He still looked confused. "When she and Alexei came home, she went straight to her room. I didn't get a chance to talk to her before I came in. Where did you see her?"

"The used bookstore off Market Street. She looked like she was having a bad day."

He nodded. "She uses books to escape from real life."

"I can understand that."

Eric looked down at the worn book in his hands. "She's had a bad year. She had to transfer schools and she skipped two grades. And she's being teased because she's younger and smarter." He closed his eyes, and he just looked so helpless. "Her teachers tell me that she's intentionally failing her tests. I think it's so they'll hold her back. I just…I don't know how to raise a daughter, much less a gifted one."

It took everything in me not to walk around the desk and hug him. I just wanted to hold him and tell him that everything would be alright.

Instead, I asked, "What about her mom?"

His blue eyes opened and shone with the same solidity as Pam's had earlier. "Her mother causes more problems than she could ever solve. She's not a part of Pam's life. And, if I have my way, she never will be."

Sheesh. That was heavy. So Pam's mom is out of the picture and apparently not a good role model. Good to know.

Time for a topic change. Back to why I'm here.

"Can you give Pam the book for me? I thought she might like it. She had to leave before she got to pick one out today, and this has always been my go-to escape book. I'm not sure where her reading level is, so you might need to read it to her. Then again, she told me that she learned to read through Dear Abby, so who knows?" I was rambling again.

"I will. Thank you." There were a few seconds of extremely awkward silence, during which I fidgeted in my chair. "Can I get you a drink?"

I stood up way too quickly. "No," I blurted out, trying to control the vertigo I was feeling. "No. I really should get home. I just came by to drop the book off."

Eric stood up, again reminding me of how tall he was. It was easy to forget when he was sitting down. "Thank you again. I'm sure she'll love it."

I fully intended to walk out of the club and never see or think about Eric Northman again—well, maybe I'd think about him in the shower or when I was alone in my bed—but my stupid brain wouldn't shut itself off. I'm not sure if it was my heart or my girly parts that made me walk over to him and take his warm hand in both of mine. He looked shocked, but didn't pull away.

I stared at his hand that swamped mine. "I can tell that you're a good dad, Eric. You worry about her too much not to be. Don't doubt yourself. Let her know that you love her and that you're there for her."

"Is that what your parents did for you?" I kept my head down, though I desperately wanted to see those glacier eyes.

"My parents died when I was seven."

"I'm sorry."

I shrugged. I had come to terms with it a long time ago. "I had my Gran. She loved me no matter what."

"I could do that." My hands tensed, and he seemed to realize what he had said. And how it could be interpreted. "For Pam," he amended.

I released his hand. "I should go."

"Yeah, okay. Good night Sookie."

"Bye, Eric."

I fled Glasir like it was on fire and didn't release the breath I was holding until I was back in my car. Geez Louise. Eric Northman was going to either kill me with pure sexiness or panic attacks. He had my heart rate in the red zone whenever I was with him.

I turned my Southern Rock playlist up full blast to try and block out any stray thoughts while driving back to my apartment.

Eric scared me. I didn't fear for my safety or anything, but he scared me because I wanted to be around him. And not just to have passionate, primal sex with him.

And that was the opposite of what I was supposed to want right now. I was supposed to want to swear off men or have a bunch of random flings to get back at my douche of an ex, but I found myself wanting to get to know Eric, to figure him out.

I couldn't want that.

I had to stay away from Eric Northman.

But, even as I thought it, I knew it was futile to resist.

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A/N: What did you think? Let me know.


	4. Baked Waffles

A/N: I got a pretty mixed opinion on an Eric chapter, so I decided to go for it. There's no Sookie or overlap of the point of views. It's more of a glimpse into Eric's mind and home. I hope that you like it.

Disclaimer: SVM belongs to that supreme goddess Charlaine Harris.

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"What the fuck, Alexei?" I asked as he stumbled in at two in the morning. When I got home, I found Pam asleep in her bed, but my brother was nowhere to be found. He was supposed to be watching my seven-year-old daughter, not whatever the hell he was doing without the cell phone he left on the table.

I parked it on the living room couch and decided to wait him out, but I couldn't make myself calm down. He had left Pam alone. She was seven. I really didn't ask that much of him—walk her home from the school he also attended and watch her a few nights a week. I even paid him for babysitting.

There was no excuse for this behavior, for this complete lack of disrespect of me and all I've done for him. I got him out of our father's abusive grasp and became his legal guardian. He had his own room, a cell phone, a laptop, an agreement to get him a car for his sixteenth birthday, and I never once laid a finger on him. He had it better than most of the world, so why in the hell was he being such a rebellious little shit?

I was reading chapter three of the book Sookie had given me for Pam earlier that night when he tried to sneak through the front door. He stared at me with bloodshot eyes, his pupils dilated. He was fucking high.

I was going to kill him.

"I repeat, what the fuck?" I had managed to control the volume of my voice, for fear of waking up Pam. I'd never once had to raise my voice at her. She was feisty and liked to see how far she could push me, but she was obedient. I couldn't say the same thing about my brother.

"I…I just went out for a little while."

I stared straight at the boy and watched him squirm. "I've been home for two hours. Where were you? And what could have possibly possessed your goddamn mind to think that it was okay to leave my child alone in an unlocked house? What if something had happened to her? Do you realize what I would do to you if something had happened to her?"

"Yes."

I couldn't control it. I slammed my fist against the coffee table. "Sit down." He took my spot on the couch instantly, and I stood up and started pacing. "You cannot behave this way, Alexei. I will not stand for it. You endangered my daughter. What if Sophie Anne came back? You don't realize that your actions have consequences. Maybe I've spoiled you. Maybe I've been too kind and haven't let you reap what you sow. No more. If you continue to behave like this, I'm sending you to military school. Do you understand me?"

He nodded.

"Go to bed. We'll have this discussion again tomorrow when you aren't under the influence of marijuana."

I sat on the couch for a long time after he went to his room. I could only hope that he would get his shit together. Experimenting with drugs was one thing, abandoning a defenseless child without even the foresight to lock the front door on the way out was something different. I wouldn't be able to take it if Pam was gone from my life.

I must have fallen asleep from the stress of it, because the next thing I knew I was being awoken by my sunshine.

She kicked my foot and dropped a plate of Eggo Waffles in my lap. "Rise and shine, Daddy Dearest."

"Good morning to you too."

I threw her over one shoulder and grabbed the plate in my free hand. I sat her down in her usual chair at the dining room table, putting the waffles in front of her. She slid them to in front of my chair.

"I already ate, dad. I made those for you."

"Thank you, Pam." Then I remembered Sookie's book and ran back into the living room for it.

I handed it to her. She looked up at me, curiosity lacing her normally stony features. "What is this for?"

"Sookie told me that she saw you yesterday and that you looked upset. She wanted me to give it to you, thought you might like it."

Pam looked from me to the book to back at me. And then she smiled. "Do you have Sookie's number? I'd like to call her and thank her for such a thoughtful present."

I stared at her. "What are you playing at?"

"No game. I really do want to thank her, so let me have her number."

"Can't," I replied.

"Why not?"

"I don't have her number."

Pam didn't look like she fully believed me. "Eric, really?"

"Pamela, you know better than to call me by my first name." We had had that conversation numerous times. "And, yes, really. I don't go around getting the number of every attractive woman who comes into my club." And she was attractive. And kind, just like Dawson had said. And I felt like my skin was on fire when she took my hand.

"So you admit that you think she's attractive."

"Pam, I don't want to talk about this."

"Why?" Why? Why? Because never in her entire life had Pam and I talked about a woman other than her mother. And those were never pleasant conversations.

"Because I'm your father and I don't want to." I didn't want to. Sookie Stackhouse was not a topic I was comfortable discussing, let alone thinking about. She had burrowed her way into my dreams without my approval. She was beautiful, of course, but from the dreams I'd had it looked like my subconscious wanted more than sex from her.

"You're pulling the father card?"

"Yes, now go clean your room." She scoffed. "As your maker, I command you."

She threw back her head and laughed, while walking away. "That's so lame, Dad," Pam yelled from her bedroom.

"It got you to do it, didn't it?" I yelled back.

* * *

A/N: I know it's a little short, but I wasn't sure whether or not I was going to have it being an actual chapter or not. Plus, I'm in the process of editing the next chapter so it should be up lickity-split.


	5. Stalk Stalk Dance

A/N: Hello, lovelies. I was very pleased to hear that many of you enjoyed the chapter from Eric's POV. There probably won't be many of them.

Disclaimer: SVM is not mine.

* * *

An entire week. I made it an entire week without giving into my baser urges and driving to Glasir to have my way with Mr. Northman. I'd meant to detach myself from Eric by referring to him by his last name, but it caused the opposite to occur. One dream screaming out "Mr. Northman" as he fucked me on the desk in his office erased any sort of retaining wall I had built.

The dream that made me wake up in a cold sweat, however, was of Eric, Pam, and me at the park. He was giving her a piggy back ride and holding my hand. He looked over and smiled. And I felt so happy.

I swear I shot out of bed quicker than a bottle rocket on the Fourth of July. Even though it was only a little five AM, I went into the kitchen and started making ham and spinach quiche for breakfast. While it was baking, I grilled chicken for the Caesar salad I was packing for lunch.

Through much maneuvering, I had managed to completely ignore Bill Compton. Of course, I also hadn't turned on my cell phone in a week. I really needed to put on my big girl panties and either tell him once and for all to go fuck himself or call AT&T and change my phone number.

I had a feeling that I was probably going to be a coward and just get a new number.

About six fifteen, just as the quiche was coming out of the oven, Tray stumbled into the kitchen wearing only a pair of jeans. Well, I guess they are done fighting. He poured himself a cup of coffee and sat down at the table with me.

"Would you like some quiche? There's more than enough."

He nodded his head and grunted, so I scooped up a slice and presented it and a fork to him. After finishing that piece, two more, and a cup of coffee, Tray was finally awake enough to use human speech.

"Ames is coming to the club tonight. She's going to ask you to go."

I wasn't really sure how I felt about going back to Glasir, so I replied, "Oh?"

"Yeah." He groaned. "And I'm not supposed to tell you and I could probably get fired for this, but the boss has been asking about you."

"Your boss. As in Eric Northman? He's been asking about _me_?"

"Sort of, and he's kind of been a tyrant lately."

"A tyrant?" I felt my eyebrow rise of its own volition. "And what do you mean 'sort of?'"

"He's been irritable, short-tempered. Fired two bartenders this week." Tray gulped down another cup of coffee while I stared at him waiting to get to the second, and most important, part of the conversation. Men.

"Sort of?" I asked again.

"He asked me about you last Thursday when you and Ames came by, nothing unusual. How I knew you and if you were normal and about you and Bill breaking up."

"What did you tell him?" I was starting to feel like he was intentionally drawing this out to tease me.

"That you and I were friends and that Bill was an idiot to cheat on someone as sweet and kind as you." I had a major aww moment. "I should have told him about your cooking schools because those are dang impressive."

"Thank you." I smiled.

"Can you do me a favor?"

"Sure." After buttering me up that good, I would probably do anything he asked.

"Come by tonight. I really think you could mellow Northman out."

I laughed at that. "Sure, why not?" I was so weak-willed. All he had to do was ask nicely, and I was running back to Eric.

It was probably a mistake, and it definitely ruined my plans to avoid him at all costs, but it was a favor to Tray. Yeah. Sure. Just like I went last Friday as a favor to Pam.

I left Tray in the kitchen and went to get ready for the day. I took an extra-long shower, let my hair dry naturally, and put on makeup. I knew that my new shipment of books was due in and I had a meeting with the assistant principal, so I wasn't sure if I'd have time to come back and change before going to Glasir. I decided on a gray pencil skirt and a sapphire blue top. I pulled my hair into a low messy bun but figured I could let it loose when I got to the club.

Work went really well. I helped Mrs. Layton's fifth graders pick out a historical figure to write a biography on and found them all books. I met with the assistant principal about my budget for next year without incident or argument. My new shipment came in after I ate my delicious salad at lunch. I was so excited that I didn't even mind all the technical stuff I had to do to add the new books into the computer system. I added the scan labels and laminated the dusk jackets of all the hardcover books.

New books were almost as exciting as old books.

Once they were all done, I put them on my desk to review and judge what age group they would best suit. I liked to have an intimate knowledge with the books in my library. I couldn't very well suggest a book that I knew nothing about.

The afternoon had faded into evening by the time I finally left the school. I stopped by at my favorite little diner to get chili cheese fries. I planned on drinking, and it wasn't smart to do that on any empty stomach. Plus, I was a bit of a lightweight and a horny drunk. Add sexy Mr. Northman to the mix and I was in for trouble if I didn't have some sort of food in my system.

After chowing down, I went to the bathroom to brush my teeth with my travel tooth brush and fix my hair. When I came back to my table, I stopped dead in my tracks and stared at him.

"What the hell are you doing here?" He was sitting at my table. How did he know I was here? Was he following me?

"Sookie."

"Answer the damn question, Bill," I said, not even trying to hide the fact that I was pissed. I was also terrified, but that was better suppressed.

"I was worried. You've been avoiding me, honey."

"Like you don't know why. You cheated on me, you controlling jackass. With your ex-girlfriend, the same ex-girlfriend who called me a bitch the first time we met. And now you're following me around. Is that what's going on?" I was on a roll and didn't even wait for him to reply. "That's bordering on stalkerish and is frankly creepy, even for you. Leave me alone. You and I are done. Don't make me get a restraining order."

I threw money down on the table to cover the bill and walked out, without looking back.

I walked into Glasir feeling high as a fucking kite. It felt good to tell him all of the things that I had held inside for so long. I loved him, I had, and so I overlooked a lot of his flaws and behavior. Having a little distance from the situation, I couldn't believe how much of his shit I put up with.

I got Chow's attention at the bar and he came right over. I was glad that he had survived The Great Bartender Firing. "Hey, Chow, do you remember me?" He just nodded, which, in my drunk on life state, made me laugh out loud. "Can you make me up a gin and tonic, please?"

I drank the entire thing before going straight for the dance floor. Amelia and Tray were both there, tangled up all in one another. Yeah, they were definitely over their fight. Ames squealed and removed herself from Tray when she saw me. She wrapped me in a huge hug.

"Tray and I are officially dating," she shrieked over the bass. "No more fuck buddies. Now he has to deal with my mood swings on a regular basis and take me out to fancy restaurants and everything."

"Congrats," I said and smiled at her. "I just called Bill a jackass and told him to leave me the hell alone."

"Well, congrats to you too." She twirled me in a circle, and we both giggled.

I lost myself in the beat. I loved to dance. There was something so primal, so animalistic, about using your body to express what you were thinking and feeling. It didn't matter if I was twirling to Tom Petty or shaking my hips to Shakira, I loved to dance. I had ever since I was a little girl with a frilly pink tutu. I never had the balance to excel at ballet, but it served to show me the power of movement.

Amelia wakened me from my trance. "He's watching you." She laughed.

"Let him," I replied. We both knew who she was talking about. Mr. Northman. I'd managed to avoid him thus far, but I knew I couldn't avoid him forever. And quite frankly I wasn't sure if I wanted to stay away. "If he wants me, he can come and get me."

Ames smirked. "Damn, girl."

I smiled and spun back around, determined to push that man from mind and enjoy the music. Fat chance of that happening. It was barely a minute later that I felt one hand and then another settle on my hips. Those wonderfully delicious, daydream-inducing hands turned me to face him. Call me a popsicle, because I just melted. Gray jeans. Black v-neck shirt that hinted at the muscles hidden there. Did anything look bad on the man?

He smiled at me. "Hello, Sookie." Those lips. Unhhh.

"Eric." I was panting, breathless from dancing and being near him.

"It's nice to see you."

"You too."

His fingers lightly tapped against my lower back. "Let me get you something to drink." I bobbled my head and followed him to his booth. Eric barely nodded towards the bar, but seconds later a curvy brunette was placing a gin and tonic in front of me. She left without another word.

He remembered my drink.

And then he seemed to remember something else. "Stay right here. I have something for you."

He walked back towards his office. He had something for me? Something? I could certainly think of something he could give me. When he returned to the table, he handed me a letter. My name was written on the front six different times, each with a variation in spelling. I pointed at the correct spelling.

"That one."

He nodded. "It's from Pam. She said that she wanted to thank you for the book."

I flipped the envelope over. There was duct tape covering the seal with the word "PRIVATE" written along the tape. I glanced at Eric. He smiled and held up his hands. "I wasn't allowed to read it." Then he handed me a letter opener.

It took a little effort but I was able to get the envelope open. I pulled out the folded piece of paper. The handwriting was curly, yet perfectly legible.

I read it to myself.

"Hopefully Eric didn't open this letter. Also, don't tell him I called him Eric. He hates that. It's not that I plan on saying anything that I don't want him to read. He's just nosy. And I knew he would find it difficult to control himself. I was testing him.

"I like you. I think we should be friends. I know I'm a brat. I know I'm…well, Dad says I can be difficult. But I want to talk to you. So, give him your number. He says he doesn't have it and I don't think he's lying. I can tell when he lies. Anyway, give him your number and we can meet for coffee or something. Oh, and thanks for the book. I finished reading it. Way better than the Disney movie."

She wanted to meet me for coffee? And to be friends? Did I want that? Did it matter what I wanted? My heart went out to the girl. It was obvious that Pam was prickly, wasn't someone who let people in easily, but she was willing to talk to me. It may be good for her to have someone else to lean on. But this was something I needed to discuss with Eric.

I felt the letter being tugged from my hand, but I clutched onto it and pulled it away from his grasp, putting it in my skirt pocket. "No, no, mister. She wrote it for me." Eric didn't look amused. "But we do need to talk about what she wrote."

"What did she say to you?"

"Pam wants us to be friends. Me and her. What is your opinion on that?"

He placed his folded hands on the table and sighed. "Honestly?" I nodded. "She needs someone to talk to that isn't me or her journal. And she barely talks to me anymore. She likes you. I know you have no reason to want to spend time with her, but…I don't know. I don't know."

When he went into Dad mode, I always wanted to hug him. It was such a switch in demeanor from the Boss façade that he normally presented, the one who was in control and in charge. Where Pam was involved, he seemed vulnerable.

I started mentally going over my weekly schedule, looking for free gaps of time, things that could be rearranged. "Would you object to me meeting Pam once a week? You can, of course, be there with her." I felt like I owed it to her to at least try being friends with her. If her attitude got to be too much or if she wouldn't open up, then I could reconsider. Pam reminded me a little of myself when I was young, only snarkier and too smart for her own good. If I didn't have Gran, I would have been loss.

"That would be fine." Eric's words were simple, but he sounded happy.

"Do you have a pen?" I asked. He told me there was one in his office, so I followed him back into the room. On Pam's envelope, I circled the correct spelling of my name and wrote my cell phone number. Then I handed it to Eric, who quirked an eyebrow at me. "Pam wanted my number."

He laughed at that. "Of course she did." Eric put the envelope in his top desk drawer, the look of amusement never leaving his face.

I heard the bass line of one of my favorite songs playing and started drifting towards the door, transfixed by the feeling of music pulling me in. "Where are you going?" Breath hit my neck.

I turned my head, and there were only inches between us. Eric's eyes were staring down into mine; I could practically feel his eyelashes hitting my cheeks. And his lips were closer than they had ever been. I gulped and backed a few steps away from him. My heart felt like I had just gotten off the treadmill and my fingertips felt tingly.

I hadn't really gotten a chance to dance with him earlier, but the man looked like he could move. And I wanted to test that theory.

I reached out and offered him my hand, which he took without much thought. "Come with me, Mr. Northman."

* * *

A/N: Tell me what ya'll think. Let me know if you have any questions or if I haven't made anything clear. If I can tell you without spoiling the story for you, then I will.


	6. What The Fluffernutter

A/N: I'm over the moon excited about all the reviews and alerts that I've gotten for this story. Quite honestly, I didn't expect anyone to read it. So, wow, and I'm glad that you all are enjoying the journey.

Also, in this chapter I mention the English Romantic poet William Blake. He is mostly known for his shorter poetry, but he also wrote several "prophetic" books that contain ideas about theoretical time and the formation of the universe that scientists are saying is similar to modern theoretical quantum physics. He is pretty fascinating. That explanation isn't really necessary to enjoy the brief mention of him, but I figured someone might enjoy the background information.

Disclaimer: I don't own SVM.

* * *

I got up relatively early on Saturday morning, despite my slight hangover, because I had plans to drive to Bon Temps to visit my Gran. It was a long-standing tradition we had, even when I left town to go to college. I would come home for one weekend a month and have dinner on Saturday and lunch on Sunday before going back home. It had helped settle the homesickness that developed during my freshman year, and I had continued it all four years of undergrad. I even kept it up during grad school. It was so ingrained in me that I didn't even think about it anymore.

I loved Bon Temps because it was home. I had spent my first eighteen years there. It was so very typical small town—secrets that weren't secret, good ole boys, and biddies who could cook like nobody's business. And I had seen it all at Merlotte's where I worked as a waitress during high school.

I jumped in the shower, washing the previous night off of my skin.

Eric Northman most certainly could dance It was a very enjoyable experience for me, and he seemed mighty happy to be dancing with me too. I could tell, from all the times I "accidently" rubbed the front of his jeans, that he was hard and much bigger than I was used to. Tipsy (horny) Sookie came out to play when we were dancing, but completely sober Eric didn't seem to mind one lick. He even pulled me back into his arms, when I told him I had to leave.

Frankly, Tipsy Sookie didn't want to go either.

It had felt good to be in his arms, against his chest. Dragging myself away was nearly impossible, but I had plans and not even Eric Northman was going to stand in the way of my plans.

After showering, which was a longer than usual because of distracting Eric thoughts, I put on a yellow sundress and packed an overnight bag for Gran's house. I was on the road by eleven and pulled into the house where I grew up a little after twelve.

I found Gran in the kitchen making fluffernutters—peanut butter, marshmallow fluff, and banana sandwiches. They had been a favorite of mine growing up, a comfort food.

"Hello, honey. Do you want one?"

"Yes, ma'am." I kissed her on the cheek and then went to put my bag in my old room.

When I came back to sit at the kitchen table, Gran had a sandwich and a glass of sweet tea waiting for me. "So tell me what's new with you?"

She asked me right as I took a bite, and it took nearly a minute to clear my mouth enough to speak. I even took a drink to delay telling her. Gran had loved Bill, said that he was such a Southern gentleman. She'd even taken to asking when we were going to get married, which I had always deflected, especially towards the end when I started to have my suspicions about his fidelity, or lack thereof.

"Bill and I broke up."

"Oh no. Why? I thought you two were happy." She gave me a sad, sympathetic smile.

"He was cheating on me."

Gran's face turned from sweet to severe. I'd only been the receiving end of that look a few times in my entire life. I have to admit, I was relieved and ecstatic that Bill Compton's stock had just dropped. Us Stackhouse women stuck together. I should have known that Gran would take my side.

"Pardon my language, but what an ass."

"Gran," I exclaimed with a giggle. She hardly ever uttered a curse, let alone said a cross word about anyone.

"I said, 'pardon my language.' You caught him in the act?"

Had I ever. "Yes, ma'am. She was still on top of him."

Gran gasped. "And he's lazy too."

I didn't know if I wanted to laugh or cry or blush, but I definitely laughed and blushed. This was a side of my Gran I had never seen. She'd always been feisty—I got that from her—but she'd never been so open with her thoughts. Maybe she was losing her impulse control as she got older.

"How are you handling the break up?" she asked when I stopped laughing.

"Actually, Gran, I'm happier than I've been in a long time. I know I'm supposed to be devastated, but I'm not. I feel good."

"You look good."

My cell phone rang, so I checked the caller ID. It was a Shreveport number that I didn't recognize. I was tempted to just let it go to voicemail, but I answered it anyway. "Hello?"

The voice that replied was the one I had been expecting. "Sookie? It's Pam."

"Good to hear from you. I guess that means that Eric gave you my number."

"No, I've been randomly dialing numbers all morning until I got you." Dead pan.

"Funny," I replied straight back. Pam laughed.

"When are you free to go get coffee?" Down to business. She didn't dilly-dally, I'd give her that.

"I'm out of town right now, but I can meet ya'll tomorrow afternoon, if that works."

"One second." I heard Pam's muffled voice yell something to someone in the background. A few seconds later a deeper voice replied. "Yeah, that works for us. Do you know where Voodoo Coffee is on Commerce Street? Around three?"

"Yes, I know where that is. And three works for me."

"Good," she replied smoothly, a little too smoothly. "So, you were at the club last night?"

"Yes." What was she getting at?

"Well, it sure took you long enough."

"Excuse me?" I replied. Pam wasn't going to make this easy, as if I expected her to suddenly be peaches and sunshine.

"I gave him the letter on Monday to give to you when you came back."

"How'd you know I'd come back?"

"An educated guess," she replied, that smooth as a baby's bottom tone entering her voice once again. "You practically drooled over him the night we met. Speaking of, you didn't hook up with my dad last night, did you?"

"No," I yelled, blindsided by her question. "Why would you even think something like that?"

"He's been humming. All day. Something happened last night." That really shouldn't have made me as happy as it did, but I liked hearing that I had affected him too.

"We danced." No use lying to her. She wouldn't handle it well if I lied to her; I could tell that much.

"When you say 'dance,' do you mean something else? Alexei said that adults do that sometimes." I kind of wanted to punch Alexei. He didn't seem to be teaching her anything useful.

"Sometimes they do. Now is not one of those times."

"Okay. Then, I guess I'll see you tomorrow."

"Bye, Pam."

I dropped my cell phone onto the table. Yeah, she was definitely not going to make this easy on me. But, Eric was humming? Happy people hummed. Or was she making that up to get a reaction out of me? Everything she did or said seemed to have an underlying purpose. She was testing me.

"Who was that?" Gran asked.

"My new seven-year-old best friend." I sighed. "Do you remember how I got suspended in fourth grade for punching Jessica Fleming after she made fun of my favorite pink dress?"

"Vividly. You were a little spitfire." I smiled at that.

"Well, Pam is like that, only she's seven. And she skipped two grades. And she's being raised by a single father. But she's definitely a spitfire. I think that she doesn't know how to let people in."

"You were like that too, dear."

"I know. I think that's why I'm doing this."

Later that afternoon Jason and his girlfriend of the week—Dawn, this time—came over and we all played Pitch for a few rounds. Gran and I were on a team, leaving Jase with his girl. We whipped them. Jason wasn't afraid to bet high, but he didn't trust Dawn to play the right cards to help him. It was like watching the birth and death of one of Jason's relationships right in front of my eyes. Dawn actually surprised me by not rushing from Hummingbird Lane in tears.

Though it was only mid-April and not quite grilling season, Jason agreed to grill steaks for dinner. While Gran prepared her family recipe green beans, Dawn and I prepared the mashed potatoes. I preferred to cook alone, but she insisted on helping, so I sucked it up.

Dinner went smoothly, much to my delight. And Gran's. Jason refrained from making stupid or hurtful comments, Dawn didn't cry, and the food was spectacular. Definitely a check in the win column.

Sunday morning Gran and I got up and went to church, like we always did when I came to visit. I caught up with Hoyt Fortenberry, while his momma gossiped to Gran about Arlene's latest out-of-wedlock pregnancy—huge news in a small town. I wondered if I would make the rumor mill for being cheated on; Jason never could keep his trap shut. I loved the boy to death, but sometimes I just wanted to strangle the ever-loving daylights out of him.

After the service, Gran and I ate a quick lunch of bacon sandwiches since I had to get back to Shreveport to meet with Pam. The drive back was fun; I listened to Creedence and belted out the words to every song, earning me weird looks from passing drivers. I didn't care though. I was having a blast.

I had enough time to change out of my church clothes and into something a little more relaxed. I put on dark wash denim jeans and thin white sweater. Though I tried to push the thought from my mind and remember that this meeting was all about Pam, my body knew that I would be seeing Eric. My heart was ticking like a timebomb the entire drive to Voodoo Coffee. I prayed that I wouldn't get love guts all over everyone.

When I arrived, I walked straight up to the counter and ordered a twelve ounce black coffee. The barista stared at me for a long time like it was a prank. She finally understood that I wasn't playing some kind of cosmic joke and really did want a plain black coffee without pumps of syrup or foam or non-fat soy milk.

I got my drink and looked around to see if they were already there. My eyes settled on man a few tables away. He was smiling at me.

"Sookie. Nice to see you."

"Bill," I replied, feeling exasperated.

He just kept up that horrible grin. "Now, you aren't going to accuse me of following you again? I was here first. It would seem more like you were stalking me." When I didn't answer, he kept going. "Would you like to join me?"

I'd rather stab myself with a rusty blade. Or a Hep C positive, heroin addict's needle. "I'm meeting people actually."

"Oh, really? Who?"

"Sookie." I turned to look at Pam. I wanted to hug her. I had never been happier to see another human being in my entire life. Eric was a few steps behind her, just entering the building when she had reached me.

"Hey. Good to see you." I nodded at him.

"Who is the infant?" Bill replied with disgust. He never had been good with children.

Pam snorted. "Who's the dumbass?"

"Pam, you know you aren't supposed to use that word," Eric chastened, though he looked just as interested in the answer.

"Sorry," she replied, not sounding the least bit repentant. "Sookie, who is the droll man who referred to me as a infant?"

"Bill, this is Pam and her father Eric. Pam, this is Bill, my ex."

Pam's smile grew wide, and it seemed to frighten Bill. "This is your ex?" She gave him a once over. "It was a good choice getting rid of him. You can do much better." Bill looked incensed, but I had to stifle a laugh. Eric failed entirely in his attempt and chuckled to himself.

I decided it would be best to end this before it got any worse, or before we drew in a bigger crowd. "It's been…interesting seeing you again, Bill, but I've got to go."

Eric tried to lead Pam away, but he couldn't get her to move before she said, "Bye, Bill. See you soon." And she waved. How could I have ever doubted my love for that girl? She was so my hero.

Pam and I found a table in a back corner, and she and I sat down. I had to crane my neck to look up at Eric. "I'll leave you ladies to whatever it is ladies do." He tapped on a book in his hand that I hadn't realized was there. "I'll go find me a nice table far away."

I caught a glimpse of the book and my jaw fell open. "You're reading William Blake's _Jerusalem_?" He nodded. "Why on earth would you torture yourself like that?" That was not leisurely, coffee shop reading.

"I take it you've read it."

"I took a class on Blake in college. We read all his longer works. _The Book of Urizen _was my favorite."

"I like him. He's a challenge. And his ideas about theoretical quantum physics are fascinating. In some aspects, he's more of a prophet than a poet."

I opened my mouth to speak, but no words came out. And it was probably better that way. He had just completely blown my mind. I was sure that I was about to jokingly blurt out that I loved him. Geez. Beautiful and smart. I would have been happy with one or the other. Both, for this man, was bordering on overkill. God was just be cocky when he made Eric Northman.

I gulped and forced myself to focus. "I'd like to hear your perspective on Blake's ideas about time and how it affects the universe."

He smiled. "Definitely."

Sweet Mary and Joseph.

Pam cleared her throat. "When you two are done flirting, I'd like to talk to Sookie." Eric quirked an eyebrow, but remained otherwise silent, deciding instead to simply turn and walk to a table on the other side of the coffee shop.

I turned my full attention on Pam, taking in all of her appearance. She was wearing a pink sweater with a matching headband. Her hair looked impeccable, something I hadn't expected from her. At seven, my hair was always a mess, even when Gran tried to style it for me.

"Can you get me a tall skinny caramel latte?" she asked.

"Does your dad let you drink coffee?" I had an itching feeling that the answer was no. And if the answer was yes, I might just give Eric a talking to.

"No, but I thought maybe you could get me some anyway."

I squinted my eyes and took a deep breath, steeling myself for the task at hand. "No."

"Why not?" She didn't sound upset or displeased in the slightest. In fact, she sounded almost pleased.

"I'm not going to go against the rules that your dad has already established for you, whether or not I agree with them. And, in case you were wondering, I do agree with him here." Plus, Pam on caffeine sounded terrifying.

"Good. I don't want someone who is just going to kowtow to my wishes to try and win my favor." She used 'kowtow' and 'favor' correctly in a sentence. Didn't she know that she was supposed to be seven? I didn't talk that way and I was twenty-five. "You're actually pretty decent, Sookie."

It didn't sound like a stellar compliment, but I could tell that she meant it.

"Thanks, Pam. So are you."

"I think this is going to work."

"I hope so."

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A/N: So, what did you think?


	7. Black Coffee, Red Scare

A/N: Sort of short chapter, but crucial for the story. Also, I passed the 100 mark for reviews, so thank you all. (Number one hundred was Jeter2684.) You're wonderful and I adore you all.

Disclaimer: SVM is mostly definitely not mine.

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We met again the next Sunday at Voodoo Coffee. The barista wasn't nearly as shocked when I ordered a black coffee, and even managed to hand it over without a look of disgust. I arrived early and sat down in the same table that Pam and I were in the week before.

Our first visit had gone swimmingly—she told off Bill, decided that I was probably okay, and was less defensive than she'd ever been around me. I knew it wasn't going to be easy being friends with her, and that there would probably be times when I wanted to kick her in the shins, but I really did like Pam and want her to be happy.

It had been an easy week. I spent most of my workdays reading all of the new books and making notes in the computer about each of them. By Friday, I had taken care of the entire new shipment. Amelia and Tray were wrapped up in their little bubble of bliss, barely coming up for air. Frankly, I was getting a little tired of hearing them every night, so on Wednesday I went out and bought ear plugs. After that, everything was hunky dory. Tray even made me pancakes on Friday morning.

The only real thing of note was that Pam called me on Thursday when she had a really bad day, and I promised to bring her _Through the Looking-Glass_ when I saw her next.

I had purposely avoided Glasir, even though Ames and Tray had both asked me to go and even though I really wanted to dance with Eric again. It was just, well, Pam really didn't seem to want me anywhere near her dad, and for our friendship to work I was going to have to respect that. No matter how many times I daydreamed about me and him and the leather couch in his office.

Pam strolled through the doors and straight toward my table, Eric practically chasing after her, but she either didn't notice or didn't care. She rolled her blue eyes, but only I could see her. She looked put together as always, wearing powder blue petal pusher and a white top. Her hair was pulled back into a braid.

Eric stared down at his daughter, and I saw a hint of the Boss persona. "We'll finish this discussion later, Pamela." He glanced at me. "Hello, Sookie."

"Hi, Eric. How are you?"

He ran his fingers through his hair, looking frustrated. "Fine. How are you today?"

"I'm doing well." A little bit less so now that everyone is here and upset. I spied another book in his left hand and took the opportunity to distract him. "What book are you reading this week?"

He held it up for me. "_Das Kapital_." Karl Marx? That was not what I expected at all. But the man was full of surprises.

"Are you now or have you ever been a Communist, Mr. Northman?" Thankfully, he got that I was joking and cracked a smile.

"No, ma'am. Never."

Pam was over me and Eric talking. "Did you bring the second Alice book?"

"Yes. I told you that I would." I pulled it from my purse and handed it to her. Whatever happened between her and Eric was putting us all on edge. I wondered what it was, and if there was any hope of getting the mood back to light.

"I'll go sit in my corner," he said, but not before he put one of his large hands on top of her head. Eric leaned down and kissed her temple. He whispered something in her ear, causing her to nod a few times. Then he left us.

I sipped at my coffee, trying to both quell my curiosity at what he whispered and refocus on talking to Pam. Something was wrong. That much was clear.

"Are you okay?" I asked.

"Peachy keen. Why do you ask?" She managed to sound sincere, as if she genuinely had no clue why I might suspect that she was anything other than wonderful.

"I thought we were past that, Pam." The girl stared back at me, but didn't say anything. "Fine, I'll tell you about me then. I had a good week. I love my job, and I got to spend my days reading dozens of new books. My roommate and her boyfriend are happy, so I'm happy. And some persnickety seven-year-old scared away Bill, so I'm able to leave my phone on all day without worrying about getting a call or message from him. How was your week?"

She sighed. "It sucked. Eric and Alexei keep fighting, and I hear it even though Dad tries to keep it from me. I hate when they argue." Pam folded her hands and placed them on the table top. "Do you like Eric?"

"I think he seems like a nice person and a good father." I didn't think that was quite the answer she wanted, but I hoped she would leave it at that. I should have realized that this was Pam and that meant that there was little to no chance of that happening.

"No," she replied, sounding utterly bored. "I mean do you like him. Are you happy when you see him? Do you want to date him?"

"You've made it perfectly clear that you don't want me dating your dad. And I'm not going to do anything to upset you."

"You didn't answer the question."

"I know." Answering her would have just caused problems.

She dropped it after that and started telling me about Alexei and how he would let her stay up late when he babysat. For the most part, she seemed to like her uncle, because he didn't treat her like a little kid, even though maybe he should have. He let her watch South Park and was teaching her to play Call of Duty. It seemed that even though Eric and Alexei's relationship was rocky, Pam and Alexei got along great.

It had to be interesting to live with two men both of whom were way older than her. And since her mom was out of the picture (and she didn't seem to be making many friends at school), it was possible that she didn't get much female interaction. That meant that our meetings, outings, whatever, should be special.

"Do you want to do something else next time? I mean, you don't even drink coffee."

"Like what?"

I should have thought ahead before I asked, because I really didn't have any idea what else we could do. It should be something that we could both do, something fun, something that she probably had never done before. Something girly.

"How does your dad feel about fingernail polish?"

She quirked an eyebrow. "I don't know. Why?"

"Have you ever had a pedicure?" I asked. She suddenly smiled, the first smile I had seen from her that day.

"No. Let me go ask Dad." Pam shot out her chair and practically sprinted across the room. I couldn't hear what she was saying to him, but she making gestures with her hands. She seemed excited. Pedicures were obviously a good idea. Seconds later she was dragging Eric over to our table. "Explain it to him. He doesn't get it. He won't listen to me."

"What's going on?" he asked, looking utterly confused.

"Pam and I were talking about maybe going to get pedicures next Sunday instead of going to the coffee shop again since she can't drink coffee."

"And what would I do?"

"You could come with us. Get a pedicure too." Pam snickered and I smirked.

"No thanks. You girls can have your fun." Pam smiled victoriously at me, and I felt a whole hell of a lot better about everything. It was like all the heaviness had been lifted. "Are you ready to go, Pam?"

She nodded and walked over to my chair. Then, to my utter shock, she hugged me. My jaw dropped open, Eric staring at me with a mirrored expression. "Bye, Sookie."

"Goodbye, Pam. Bye, Eric."

My eyes were wide long after they left the coffee shop, long after I drove home, long after Sunday was gone. She hugged me. Like it was something she did all the time. It confused me, but it also made me feel all warm and fuzzy.

It seemed like she was accepting me.

Tuesday morning, as I sat quietly in the library sorting the checked in books, I heard my cell phone vibrate on my desk. Only a few people had my number—it wasn't something I gave out to just anyone—so I figured it must be important. When I saw Pam's name on the caller ID, dread washed through me. Something was wrong. I don't know how I knew it, but something was very wrong.

"Pam?" I asked, trying (and failing) to stay calm.

"Sookie." Her voice sounded like it had the night we met when she was looking for her dad, right after she had a nightmare.

"What's wrong?"

Pam whimpered. And that fucking terrified me because she was always so secure, so strong. "She's going to take me again. She was at my school this morning, and she said she was going to come back and get me and take me with her. I don't want to go. Call Daddy and tell him that she's here." She was hysterical.

"Sweetie, who is there?"

"My mom."

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A/N: So, yeah. Review?


	8. Big Bag O' Crazy

A/N: I don't intend to make it a habit to drop horrible cliffhanger bombs on ya'll and walk away. This was a special circumstance.

Disclaimer: As much as I wish it, SVM is not mine.

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_Tuesday morning, as I sat quietly in the library sorting the checked in books, I heard my cell phone vibrate on my desk. Only a few people had my number—it wasn't something I gave out to just anyone—so I figured it must be important. When I saw Pam's name on the caller ID, dread washed through me. Something was wrong. I don't know how I knew it, but something was very wrong._

"_Pam?" I asked, trying (and failing) to stay calm._

"_Sookie." Her voice sounded like it had the night we met when she was looking for her dad, right after she had a nightmare. _

"_What's wrong?"_

_Pam whimpered. And that fucking terrified me because she was always so secure, so strong. "She's going to take me again. She was at my school this morning, and she said she was going to come back and get me and take me with her. I don't want to go. Call Daddy and tell him that she's here." She was hysterical._

"_Sweetie, who is there?"_

"_My mom."_

Part of me froze up, while the other kicked into high gear. "Tell me exactly what happened."

"I don't have time. The tardy bell is about to ring. I saw my mom this morning in front of the school. She said she'd be back at three, when I get out of school. Dad didn't answer his phone. I didn't know who else to call. Please, Sookie. I don't want her to take me." In the background, I heard her school bell ring, and she whimpered again.

"Pam, listen to me. I'll take care of this. Do not worry."

"I have to go."

The line went silent.

It wasn't until after she hung up that I realized that I didn't have Eric's number. Pam always called me on her cell phone, which I had found a little ridiculous for a seven-year-old to have a cell phone but now saw the importance of it. Some part of my brain kicked into crisis mode. I grabbed the library phone and called the assistant principal's office. He answered immediately and cheerfully.

"Sookie. What's up?"

"Alcide, I have to go. Right now. Family emergency."

"Oh no, is everything okay?" Shut up, shut up. I don't have the time for small talk.

"It will be, but I seriously have to leave right this minute."

"Yeah, go ahead, Sookie. I'll take care of the library for the day." Sometimes it paid for the A.P. to be in love with you. Like now, for instance.

"Thank you so much. I'll take extra lunch duty or something when this all settles down. I owe you, Alcide." I didn't wait for his reply, just slammed the phone down, grabbed my cell and purse, and ran out the door as fast as my kitten heels would let me.

My fingers were shaking, so I tightened my grip on the steering wheel, while I weaved in and out of traffic going way over the speed limit, trying to get to Caddo Prep School. My throat felt like it was closing up. And I suddenly realized that tears were trickling down my cheeks. I was scared for her. I didn't know anything about Pam's mom other than that Eric didn't want her anywhere near his daughter and that Pam was afraid she was going to be kidnapped.

That should never be something a child has to fear. And from a parent no less.

Caddo Prep was normally a fifteen minute drive from Hillsdale, but I made it in a highly illegal seven minutes. My plan, the one I was pulling out of my ass, was to go into the school's office and claim a family emergency and take Pam to Eric. I couldn't very well walk in and say Pam's mom was trying to kidnap her without proof.

Oh, Fukudome. Alexei. If it was a family emergency, I'd have to take him with me too. But what fifteen-year-old boy would really object to being taken out of school for no reason?

God, I hoped that Eric would be okay with this.

It wasn't until I was already in the office that I realized that I probably could have just called the club to see if he was there. Or called Tray who no doubt had Eric's cell. Too late. I walked up to the front desk and smiled my Crazy Sookie smile at the lady sitting there.

"Hello. I'm Sookie Stackhouse. There was a family emergency and Eric Northman sent me to pick up Pam and Alexei."

"We cannot release children during the day without parental consent," the lady told me.

"Oh, I know," I told her, surprised by how easy lying was. God would forgive me for this. At least I hoped he would. "Eric said to call him and he would give consent." That was actually a good idea. Making shit up on the spot was working for me.

The lady looked through a giant folder and then dialed her telephone. Please, God, please let Eric go along with this.

"Mr. Northman, it's Octavia Fant from Caddo Prep. A Sookie Stackhouse said that she has your permission to take Pam and Alexei out for the day." Please God, I don't ask for a lot. Just let this turn out okay. Ms. Fant held out the phone. "He would like to speak to you."

Fuck.

"Hello, Eric," I said.

"Sookie, what the hell is going on?"

"No, I completely understand why they needed to call for your permission. Otherwise anyone would be able to walk in and take your kids." Come on, Eric. Understand.

"What are you talking about?"

"I'm so glad that you trust me to take care of Pam during a family emergency."

"Sookie," he growled, frustrated. "I know you are trying to tell me something, but I am not getting it."

"Did you want me to take the kids to the club or to your house?"

"Do you even know where I live?" He sighed.

"The club then, in maybe fifteen minutes. You just have to tell Ms. Fant that you were the one that sent me and I'll get Pam and Alexei to you."

"Fine. But you will explain this."

"Of course, Eric. Here's Ms. Fant." I handed the phone back to her and turned away so that she couldn't see the relief on my face. He was going along with this. I'd have Pam away from the school, away from her mother, away from this mess.

I sat down in a leather chair while waiting for an office aide to come back with the kids. Every time the door opened, I stood up. Alexei came in before Pam. I recognized him from the used bookstore.

He stared with Eric blue eyes, like he was trying to place where he had seen me. Before he could, the door opened again. Pam timidly walked into the room, holding onto the door like she was about to bolt. Then she saw me and ran across the room, launching herself into my arms. She wrapped her legs around my hips, and I held her close. She was safe. I had her. She was okay.

"Sookie." Her voice cracked.

"It's okay, sweetie. I'm going to take you and Alexei to the club. Your dad is waiting."

"Wait. What's going on?" Alexei asked.

"There was a bit of an emergency. Everything will be fine, but we need to leave." He didn't argue, just headed for the door. I smoothed Pam's navy skirt out, so that she was covered and left the office.

I led him to my car, but when I tried to let Pam down she clung to me tighter. "Pam, I have to let you go so I can drive."

"I'll drive for you," Alexei suggested.

"You are fifteen; you don't have your license. Get in the backseat."

"But I want to sit up front," he argued back. I gave him Gran's 'are you back-talking me?' look.

"I won't tell you twice." He hesitated for a second, but finally slid into the backseat. "Sweetie, it'll be five minutes. I have to get you to Glasir. Can you do this for me?"

She nodded.

"Good girl. Climb in next to Alexei." I lowered her to the ground, her arms loosening from my neck. She sat down and buckled up, while I walked around to the driver's side. The drive was completely silent. I didn't know what to say to. Well, I had things I wanted to say to Pam, but I really didn't feel like explaining the situation to Alexei just yet.

I pulled up to the front of Glasir, and before the car was even in park Eric was outside. Pam shoved open her door and ran into his arms, like she had to mine just a few minutes earlier. Alexei crawled out much more slowly, still trying to figure out what exactly was going on. Eric looked just as confused as his brother.

Pam's neck whipped around, tense. She seemed to relax when she saw me. Her hand reached out, and I took hers.

"Thank you," she whispered.

"You're safe." Thank the Lord that she was safe. Eric gave me a look. "We should go inside."

Pam refused to let go of my hand, so I followed as Eric carried her to the office. Alexei was hot on our heels, feeling extremely left out, though he knew about as much as Eric. I figured I'd be the one to blab, since Pam wasn't in the right state of mind.

Eric, Pam and I sat down on the couch, while Alexei dragged a chair over. When we were all circled up, it was story time. I took a breath.

"I got a call from Pam this morning. She was…not doing well. She told me that she saw her mom. And that she said she was going to take Pam with her at the end of school today."

"Motherfucker."

Eric was too in shock to correct Alexei's language, but I slapped him on the leg. "Watch your mouth." He mumbled an apology.

"She said that she tried to call you, but that you hadn't answered. I…I didn't know what else to do. She sounded so scared."

Eric swallowed hard. "Alexei, go watch TV out in the bar area."

The teenager looked like he wanted to put up a fight, but he did eventually go, maybe finally understanding the gravity of the situation. When the door closed behind him, Eric spoke again. This time to his daughter.

"You were very smart to call Sookie when you couldn't get me."

"Of course. I have an IQ of 143." And for a few brief seconds, Pam was back. Then she curled into Eric's chest again, her left hand still attached to mine. It gave me hope that she could come out of this state. Pam wasn't supposed to be afraid. It seemed so unnatural.

"That's right, you do. You definitely got the brains from me." He kissed her forehead. "I love you, daughter of mine."

We must have been quiet for a good fifteen minutes after that, even though I had so much I wanted to do and say and ask. Eric's reaction to the very limited things I had told him seemed to reinforce in my mind the necessity of what I had just done. Pam's mom really would have taken her if someone didn't stop her. But just because I'd foiled her plans today, that didn't mean that she'd just give up.

My mind flared back to something Pam had said on the phone. She had said, "She's going to take me again." Again.

Fuck. Fuckity fuck fuck..

Pam's breathing evened out as she fell asleep. The stress must have been too much for her, because she became dead weight on her father's lap although she couldn't have woken up more than four hours before. Even oblivious to the world, the death grip that she had on my hand never loosened.

"Thank you," Eric said quietly. "I don't…if Sophie Anne had…Thank you." I didn't reply to his broken speech, but rather stared at his face, so burdened with worry. "I suppose you deserve an explanation for what happened today."

"I don't know about 'deserve,' but I'd like to know what led up to this. Pam…she was hysterical this morning. I've never heard her like that, and the things she was saying just made it all the more horrific. "

Eric looked down at the sleeping form of his daughter and then back to me.

"I met Sophie Anne when I was twenty while I was working at a bar downtown. We went on a few dates, nothing really serious, but she ended up pregnant. And she wanted to keep the baby. I was fine with that, supported her decision either way. I promised to be involved in the child's life and provide financial support.

"Pam was born two days after my twenty-first birthday. I was so anxious to meet her, especially after Sophie Anne agreed to let me name her. But that's a whole other story. I got Pam every weekend, while she took care of her during the week. It's the arrangement we made. I thought everything was fine, that it was all working out. Then, when Pam was eight months or so, I found two notes in Pam's diaper bag after Sophie Anne dropped her off. One was addressed to me, the other to Pam. In my letter, she said that she didn't want to be a mom anymore, that it wasn't what she thought it would be. It was basically, I don't want her, you can have her.

"Then I read Pam's note."

I held up my hand. "You read her note to Pam?"

"She had just abandoned her. I was frankly quite interested in what she thought she needed to say to my daughter. It was, I'm sorry. And I'm a bird that cannot stay perched for too long. I must be free to roam. It was a bunch of bullshit where she tried to justify walking away from her."

I didn't understand that at all. I didn't understand how a mother could abandon the baby that she had felt grow inside of her. I had always wanted to be a mom, to have kids. It made me nauseated to even think about what Sophie Anne did.

"I'm sorry."

"No, don't be." He glanced down. "She gave me everything. Pam and I were happy. I finally got legal custody of Alexei when he was ten after years of trying. But, again, that's another story. Then, out of the blue, last year Sophie Anne came back. She said she wanted Pam, and when I told her to go fuck herself, politely, of course, she showed up at Pam's school."

I heard myself gasp.

"Yeah. I hadn't said anything to the teachers because I really hadn't expected her to ever show up, but she always was unpredictable. Pam's first grade teacher—that was before she skipped ahead—handed her over to Sophie Anne at the end of the day without a second thought. Pam had no idea who she was. I didn't keep pictures around, and we never talked about her mom. It was just a strange woman taking her away. I showed up just as Sophie Anne was walking off with Pam and chased them down. Pam was bawling and kept trying to run to me, but Soph wouldn't let go. I threatened to call the cops on her, but she claimed that she had as much right to see _our_ daughter as I did. She said 'our,' like she hadn't given her up. I had to finally physically remove Pam from her grasp. Then, I had Pam switch schools. We moved to a gated community. But now Sophie Anne is trying to get visitation rights."

Eric clenched his jaw, and his hands curled into tight fists.

"She's not going to get them. She'll take her the first chance she gets her alone. She's unstable. And I don't know that Pam really gets it. She knows that her mom wants to take her away from me, and that she doesn't want to go. I'm all she knows. I raised her." He sighed. "She has nightmares. She had bad dreams before, but these are night terrors. She'll scream in her sleep. Sometimes she'll wake herself up, but most of the time she keeps screaming until someone else wakes her up. I don't know what to do anymore. I feel like I've lost control."

I reached out with my free hand and took his. "I'm here. I'll do whatever you need to help keep her safe and happy."

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A/N: No cliffy this time. Let me know what you thought.


	9. The Kids are Alright

A/N: I didn't reply to reviews from last chapter, but I wanted to tell you that I read them all and that they are what got me through this chapter. I feel like it's a bit of a transitional chapter.

Also, I won't be able to get another chapter out until at least Monday.

Disclaimer: SVM is not mine.

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Eric and I talked for a few hours about ensuring Pam's safety while she was asleep (He was going to call his lawyer and talk about getting both sole custody and a restraining order, and then he wanted to call the school and reaffirm that he was the only one allowed to take the kids out.), but the second she started to stir, I dropped his hand. Out of the corner of my eye I could see his features harden. I couldn't dwell on that though. It would drive me crazy if I tried to analyze his reactions to every little thing I did. Pam sat up and turned around to face Eric, though she still held my hand. I was actually surprised that blood was flowing through my fingers despite her unrelenting grip.

Eric stilled, probably as anxious as I was, wondering what she was going to say, how she was going to react to all that had happened.

"I'm hungry," she said. I choked on the breath I had been holding.

"What are you hungry for?" he asked.

"Pepperoni pizza." Eric chuckled at that, some joke that I didn't get.

"I should've known."

Pam cocked her head to look at me. "Dad hates pepperoni, but it's my favorite. He never lets me get it." She had included me on their joke. And she said, 'dad.' That was another good sign. She had said 'daddy' when she called terrified and the night she had a nightmare. Now, she just needed to call him Eric and make a sarcastic comment and everything would be back to normal.

"That is not true," Eric said as he started tickling her sides. Pam started to squirm in his lap. "I let you get that disgusting stuff all the time. Don't lie just because Sookie is here. Tell the truth." Pam scream-giggled as Eric continued to tickle her. The mood in the room had shifted from stiff to relaxed, form afraid into fun.

Everything was going to be okay.

Really.

If Pam and Eric could both laugh and joke after what they had been through, then they would make it out of this okay.

Pam kicked away from Eric and rocketed across the couch in my direction. Sometime during the tickle fest, she had finally released her hold on me. "Save me." I sat her on my lap and wrapped both of my arms around her, but Eric stared as he leaned toward us, undeterred in his goal.

My smile felt like it had been superglued to my face; it would take major effort to rip it away. He seemed like cocky lion—a delicious smirk decorating his lips and unwavering confidence as he pinned us against the couch armrest.

"It's two against one, Mr. Northman. You might as well give up." It was a last ditch effort, because I knew that he could very well take both of us. By the way his eyes were glowing, he knew it too.

Eric leaned toward me, trapping Pam between us. His eyes locked with mine and, with every passing second, he made infinitesimal movements that brought his face closer. My heart was thudding around so much that I was sure Pam could feel it.

Eric smirked and took Pam from my slackened arms. He stood up with her and spun her around. While she was screeching, "Sookie, Sookie," he replied, "Tell the truth." God, they were so cute together.

Something had started in my late teens; whenever I saw dads with their children, I would have a major aww moment and my uterus would remind me that I wanted to have a kid of my own. This happened even when I was eighteen and knew that I didn't want a baby until I was at least out of grad school and had a stable job—I'd seen too many of my friends and classmates stuck in small towns with their brood, and I wanted more for myself. It didn't happen every time, usually only when I could tell how much the dad loved his child and how much the kid adored her dad.

Eric and Pam were ridiculous. I was jealous of how close they were. And it made me wish I had had more time with my daddy.

"Fine. Fine," Pam said, so Eric stopped spinning, but teetered from the change in momentum. "He lets me get pepperoni pizza sometimes."

Alexei sauntered into the office without so much as a knock. "Did she say pizza? Because I'm starving."

"Sure," Eric replied, shaking his head. "We'll get it delivered to the house."

I stood up. "Sookie, you're coming with us?" The sliver of fear in Pam's voice that she had managed to keep at bay since her nap crept back in.

"Oh, I don't know." It seemed like they needed family time to get back to normal, and I would just feel like I was intruding on that.

"Of course, she is," Eric replied. Well, hello, Mr. Executive Decision. That was mighty high-handed of him. What if I hadn't wanted to go? Or what if I had plans?

But, who was I kidding? Like the first night I met him, I was still willing to follow him wherever he wanted to lead. He must have realized that.

Pam tapped on Eric's arms, and he let her down. She took my hand again. "I'm riding with you. We can follow Dad and Alexei home." And, little miss Executive Decision. I wonder where she gets that from.

On the drive back, Pam asked me about my mom, what she was like. I told her that my parents had died when I was little—no good could come from telling her that I was the same age she was now when that happened—and that my Gran had raised me. I didn't remember too much about my parents, and the memories I kept seemed so random, so almost pointless. My mom used to listen to ABBA tapes while we cleaned the house every Saturday morning—my favorite song was "Take A Chance on Me." My dad taught me how to throw a punch when I was in kindergarten, even though my mom threw a hissy fit about it.

I told Pam those memories and she laughed, though I was sure she had no clue who ABBA was.

"Will you teach me how to punch?" she asked.

I bit my bottom lip and looked at her in rear view mirror. "I don't think your dad would like that very much."

"Oh, come on, you could take him." We both knew that was a lie.

I barely had time to look at the rest of the house as Pam towed me straight to her bedroom. It was exactly what I had grown to expect from her—neat, meticulous, and well thought out. A giant bookshelf covered one of the walls. _Through the Looking-Glass_, the only book that was not housed on the shelves, was resting on her bedside table. She opened a door, which apparently was her closet, to reveal clothes that were arranged by color. All the pinks together, the lavender, the powder blue. Man, that girl loved her pastels.

She walked into the closet, shut the door behind her, and came out a few minutes later wearing white capris and a teal top.

"Pizza's here," Eric yelled from somewhere.

"Goody," Pam said. Then she turned back to me. "I forgot to say it earlier, but you look nice today." I glanced down at my clothes, not remembering what I was wearing, and saw that I had on the pink dress that Amelia had bought me for my birthday because she insisted it made my skin glow.

"Thank you. And you look pristine as always."

She smiled wide at that. "Thank you as well."

There were only four chairs at the dinner table—obviously the Northmans didn't do much entertaining—and I waited until the last possible minute to sit down, convinced that they all had usual seats. They did. That left me between Pam and Eric. For the most part, I listened to the banter between them. Surprisingly, Alexei dominated most of the conversation. I hadn't expected that from the limited interactions I'd had with him. Or maybe he just needed a little attention after the day we'd had.

"What homework do you have to do tonight?" Eric asked them.

"None," Pam replied after swallowing her pizza. She seemed bored of that fact. And Eric didn't looked a bit shocked by this information, so I could only assume that it was a regular occurrence.

"I need to finish up my book report on _The Scarlet Letter_." I gasped, and they all turned to look at me. Maybe because it was the first hint of life from me since we sat down to eat.

"Sorry," I said, still excited. "I wrote my senior paper on Hawthorne."

"What was your major in college?" Alexei asked.

"English. And then I got my Master's in Library and Information Science."

The boy nodded. "That's cool. I think I'm going to double major in business and engineering."

"You've already decided that?" I asked. I hadn't decided what I wanted to major in until I was halfway through my sophomore year.

"I'm graduating next year. I tested out of a few classes."

"Geez Louise," I exclaimed."Is that like a family trait? Being way too smart for your own good?" I suddenly felt extremely inadequate sitting in a room full of freaky intelligent people. I wasn't a dummy by any means, but I had to work hard to graduate with my 3.8 grade point average. It seemed like smarts just came natural for them.

"Just me and Pam," Alexei bragged. "Eric didn't go to college. And he went to all four years of high school." As if that was a sin or something. God, what a brat.

"Don't mind him," Pam said. "He's just jealous that Dad has higher ACT scores. And beat him in basketball yesterday." Eric smiled at his daughters attempt to defend him, but he hadn't looked ruffled a bit by Alexei's comments. It was probably just another thing that he had heard too often from the boy.

After dinner, Pam, Eric, and I watched Toy Story (Pam's choice, of course) in the living room, while Alexei went to work on his book report. It surprised me that Pam decided to sit on the couch with me, instead of in the chair with her dad, but I didn't say anything. She fell asleep in my lap before Buzz and Woody got stuck in the claw machine game.

"Does she always fall asleep this easily?" I whispered to Eric.

"Never. She's usually restless, tossing and turning. I haven't seen her sleep so peacefully since she was a toddler." He sighed and turned fully in his chair so that he was facing me. "You're good for her. I didn't realize how much she needed someone else. I don't mean to…overstep or upset you, but I think she sees you as a sort of mother figure, especially after today."

I'd figured that out too, but hearing Eric confirm it made my heart hurt. Pam really had no reference point for what a mother was supposed to be, but she seemed to be seeking one out. If I hadn't showed up, I imagined that she would have found someone else eventually.

"I think she does too."

Eric cleared his throat and combed his fingers through his hair. "When do you think she's going to get over not wanting us to date?" I don't know how he managed to come across as both nervous and confident, but he did.

I'm pretty sure I blushed, and I know I looked down at the girl sprawled across my lap to make sure she was still asleep. "I'm not sure. She seems pretty adamant." I swallowed, trying to rewet my throat because it had suddenly gone dry. Oh, hell. Just suck it up and ask, Sookie. You're a grown woman. "If she wasn't opposed to it, would that be something you'd be interested in?"

"It's something I'm interested in whether or not she's opposed to it."

And there it was.

I struggled to find the right words to reply; I hadn't expected him to say it so plainly. After opening and closing my mouth so many times that I was sure I looked like a fish, I finally spoke. "I don't want to push her comfort level. If she isn't okay with it, then it's always going to be a strain between us. Until she is, I'm enjoying getting to know you better."

"Me too," he replied. "You surprise me, Sookie. I don't know many people who would drop everything to indulge a scared child when you didn't know the situation."

"It wasn't just that she sounded scared, Eric. It was also what you said about you not wanting her mother in her life. It was obvious that something wasn't right. And I would have never forgiven myself if something had happened to her after she called me for help. I couldn't say no."

A glimmer of a smile rested on his lips. "There were other options, other ways to handle today, but you just dove right into the craziness. Jesus, Sookie. What if I hadn't agreed to let you take them out of school?"

"I don't know." I had tried my darnedest not to think about that. "I guess I would have called Tray, gotten your number, and explained it to you. I wanted to explain it to you in the office, but I thought I'd come off sounding paranoid to you and the secretary. I was hoping you would trust me until I could see you face-to-face." I really hadn't had a backup plan.

"I do trust you. That's the only reason I relented."

Pam snuggled into my lap and let out a quiet sigh. I brushed some hair from her face and wound it behind her ear. She looked positively sweet like this. When I glanced up at Eric, his face carried a strange expression. It disappeared quickly when he saw me looking.

"Um. I'm going to put her to bed."

He stood up and walked to where we were sitting on the couch. Eric had to kneel down to pull the sleeping girl into his arms. I followed along behind them, thankful that I had taken off my heels earlier so that I didn't leave a clack-clack in my wake. Eric expertly changed her into a nightgown and tucked her in. He placed a small kiss on her forehead and whispered something to her.

Then he walked over to where I was standing in the doorway. Without a word, he wrapped his arms around me. Between his height, his arm span, and his musky, natural scent that surrounded me, I felt like I was drowning in Eric. Not that I minded in the slightest.

He placed his forehead at the very top of mine, and I clenched my eyes closed, too terrified of what I might do if I had to look at him. His warm breath collided with my nose, and I could actually feel each goose bump as it formed.

"If you two are going to keep doing that, we're going to need to talk." I jumped out of Eric's embrace at the sound of Pam's voice, backing up into her dresser and hitting my arm on the door frame. "No use hiding it now. I already saw you."

"Good night, Pam," Eric said calmly.

"Night, Dad. Good night, Sookie."

"Uh," I eloquently replied. "Uh. Good night, Pam."

* * *

A/N: Since I am new to SVM fan fiction and I don't know many of you, I thought I'd tell you some random things about me. 1. I've been learning Swedish and plan to move to Gothenburg after grad school. 2. I have a Twilight fanfic that I haven't touched in months because after reading Dead to the World, I haven't been able to think of anything but the Viking. So, your turn. Tell me about yourself and what you thought of the chapter.


	10. Falling Together, Falling Apart

A/N: Hello, new friends. It was great to learn a little more about you all from your reviews.

It was brought to my attention that I was featured in the Fanfictastic Friday article on My SVM Addiction, so I'd like to thank dazed-rose and Missus T for recommending April Showers. I'm humbled.

Oh, and some of you are asking about the title of the story. It comes from the Jon Black song "April Showers." I'll be posting the lyrics to my profile and a link if you're interested in that.

I think that's all.

Disclaimer: SVM is most certainly not mine.

* * *

"We're going out to brunch tomorrow," Amelia said as she entered the kitchen on Friday night. She was on her way to Tray, like she had been since the night they got together two weeks ago. "You've been doing this all week even though we have, like, an entire refrigerator full of leftovers. I know I've been an absentee best friend recently, but you've got to tell me what's going on."

I was standing in front of our stove, frying catfish and hushpuppies. Comfort food. Ames was right about leftovers. I had mashed potatoes, fried okra, cornbread, fried chicken, homemade rolls, and an entire tray of fluffernutters in the fridge. Not to mention the eight dozen cornflake cookies that were cooling on the kitchen counter. I was using cooking as a distraction technique. I'd tried reading and knitting earlier in the week, but it was to no avail. My mind would wander to Eric or Pam or Eric and Pam and the conversation that we had yet to have.

I was pretty sure that Pam was intentionally torturing me, because after Tuesday night she had called me twice—both times I started to have panic attacks—but just to talk about school and how Eric was picking her and Alexei up every day. Pam hated her school; she said it was the people, but she also regularly complained about the uniform.

She had said, "Public school has many flaws, but at least I'd be able to choose what I want to wear every day, instead of being forced into that atrocious uniform. I was not meant to wear navy."

Pam rarely mentioned Eric, but when she did it was always in the context of what he was doing to annoy her. She didn't bring up again that she saw us hugging, or whatever it was that we were doing, in her bedroom. She had to be doing it on purpose, testing my reactions. Driving me up the walls.

"Sure, Amelia," I replied, plucking my hushpuppies from the oil. "That sounds good."

I'd been missing her, especially this last week. Besides Pam's calls on Wednesday and Thursday, Eric had also called me right after work on Thursday. Someone had programmed his number into my phone on Tuesday without my knowledge, so, when I saw his name on my caller ID, my heart started palpitating like a frightened hummingbird. And I hated that just seeing his name had that much of an effect on me.

Like his daughter, he avoided any mention of Tuesday night. Instead he asked again about what Pam and I would be doing on Sunday, and I had to explain about massage chairs and bubbling water and fingernail polish, how it was girly and fun. When it was all said and done, he sounded just as unconvinced as when I started, but agreed to drop her off at the salon I'd made appointments at. I was going to drive her back to her house afterward.

"Good," Ames said. "Meet me at the diner on Texas Street, the one by the church. Say about eleven."

"Will do," I replied.

I ate my dinner in the silence of the apartment, feeling antsy and cooped up. I wanted to see Eric. I wanted to dance with him and drink with him. I wanted to see his eyes flash like blue blinking Christmas lights when he was happy. Geez. I needed a drink.

My fingers tapped on wooden tabletop like I was Mozart composing a piano concerto. Should I do it? Should I go? Would he even be there? And, if he was, would he want to see me? Would he be too busy? I could just put on a red sundress and go for a drink. Just one. And a little dancing to let off some steam. That's it. And then I'd come home and sleep and go to brunch with Ames.

Nothing ever goes according to plan when I wear red.

Since I didn't know the bouncer at the door, I waited in line and paid the cover. My favorite grumpy bartender got me a gin and tonic so quickly that it was like he'd be fired if I had to wait around. And he wouldn't let me pay. Or tip.

I looked around for a booth but it was so packed in Glasir that I could barely see past the person in front of me. I should have worn my fuck me heels, instead of wimping out and wearing flats. Red flats were easier for slipping in and out between people, but they didn't help me plot my direction. I ended up next to Eric's empty booth. Despite the crowds, everyone seemed to know not to sit there. Even I felt a little guilty doing it, but I slid into the booth.

I sipped at my drink, while random people gave me dirty looks, which was doing wonders for my self-esteem, as you can imagine. When I finished, I went out to the dance floor to work off some excess energy. More than a few times I had to slap away the hands of some gropey guy, but I didn't let them ruin my good time. By the time the alcohol hit my system, I was even willing to let myself be groped a little, which was my cue to get out of there. I made my way back to Eric's booth.

He didn't even look up as I approached.

He pointed to my empty highball glass. "I assume that's yours." I slid into my seat across from him.

"Normally I'd make a joke about what happens when you assume, but this time you're right. It is mine." I bit my bottom lip and studied him, his face not giving away anything. My stomach felt like it was about to eject my catfish like a tangled VCR tape. "I'm sorry I sat in your booth."

"Don't be," he replied, stretching his long arms along the top of the booth, border lines on a map separating us from the rest of the world. "I wasn't expecting you, but it's a welcome surprise." A smile peeked out from the fortress of his lips, and my stomach started doing flips that were completely unrelated to my earlier anxiety.

My own smile tagged along behind his. "I just came for a drink. I figured you'd be busy."

"Are you saying you didn't come to see me?" Eric teased. "I'm hurt."

"I wanted to see you. I hoped to see you." He smiled even wider at my confession.

"Would you like another drink?" He always asked.

"Nope, I'm good." Too many drinks and I'd be humping his leg.

He smirked. "You came to Glasir to get a drink, and now you don't want one. Am I hearing that right?"

"I'm a complicated woman."

"So I'm discovering," he replied. "How about a dance then?" Oh lord, I wanted nothing more. Well, that wasn't true. I wanted a lot more from Eric, but I'd be happy with a dance.

I nodded. "Sounds good."

He stood to his full height—looking as fuckable as ever in a gray suit and black button-up—and held out his hand for me to take, which I did. Gladly. On the dance floor his arms wrapped around my hips, holding me to him. My fingertips grazed his shoulders, and I once again cursed myself for not wearing the heels. We danced well together, even better than the time before, despite my shortness and his tallness.

Over the thump thump thump of the bass, Eric said something. I shrugged and shook my head, which he found amusing. He had to lean down and get close. "You're beautiful like this, when you let go. It makes me wonder what you look like doing other things."

"You mean like vacuuming?"

Eric threw back his head and laughed, and I did a little mental happy dance. "Exactly what I was referring to."

"I thought so."

The song ended so I tried to pull away, but Eric just pulled me back even tighter, my chest flush against his. He whispered that he wasn't done with me yet. Two songs later bouncer tapped Eric on the shoulder. He pulled back from me and spoke quietly to him. Eric nodded, and the guy scurried off.

"I need to take care of something," he told me.

"Is it serious?" I asked, curiosity getting the better of me. Gran would pitch a fit at me for sticking my nose where it didn't belong.

"Nothing I can't handle."

I nodded. "I should go too."

Eric pulled me back in for a hug, my arms pinned to my sides, and kissed my forehead. "I'll see you Sunday."

"Good night, Eric."

I tried not to obsess over Eric and get some sleep, but it was a fairly futile task. Would Pam get over not wanting me with her dad? Would Eric still want me when there was nothing standing in his way? How would I handle being with him knowing that he essentially had two kids? How would Pam? Alexei? What would Gran think? And Jason? And Amelia? Would Tray mind if I dated his boss?

By the time I sat down at the diner with Amelia Saturday morning, I was ready to burst. I told her everything that had happened since the night I met her and Tray at Glasir. She squeed at all the right parts and gave me exasperated looks when she felt I was holding back on her.

"Why haven't you jumped on him yet?"

I sighed. "I already told you Ames. It'll upset Pam."

"Screw Pam. You both want each other. You should be together," she replied, before taking another sip of her three sugars two creams coffee.

"It's not that simple. One, he's a dad. She's more important to him than I am. Two, if Eric and I do ever date, I don't see it being a fling or casual. And I don't want there to always be hostility between me and Pam."

She dismissed all of my concerns with a swipe of her hand. "She'll get used to it eventually." I groaned and went back to eating my bagel.

Brunch with Ames just wound me even tighter. At the apartment I baked six loaves of Gran's blue ribbon banana nut bread. I was running low on comfort food recipes and high on comfort food. I hadn't been eating much of the food I made and didn't know what to do with all the excess. Maybe I could give some of it our neighbors.

Sunday morning I showered, stuffed myself with banana bread, and straightened up the apartment. It was going fine until I went into the hall closet and saw the vacuum among the cleaning supplies. I knew how stupid it was to get upset over something as simple as seeing my own vacuum cleaner; it was ridiculous, and I wanted to slap myself for behaving like an emotional girl, but I slipped further into a funk.

I was pacing at the salon when Pam and Eric showed up. He stared at me curiously, but didn't say a word. Pam skipped into the room looking like she was on cloud nine. Of course she was. She was in control of everything.

Pam and I picked out our fingernail polish colors. She picked lavender; I chose red. When she remarked that red was Eric's favorite color, I just remained silent.

It only took a few minutes, before Pam and I were sitting in massage chairs with our feet in warm water. Despite myself, I almost began to relax. Either Pam was oblivious to my mood or she didn't care.

"Do you like Eric?" she asked, not for the first time.

It was all the stress and frustration of three weeks that caused me to snap, but it was still no excuse for being rude. I just couldn't take it anymore. "I'm tired of your little tests Pam. I don't know what answer you want. I don't understand the point of all your tests. What are you doing all of this for? Are you trying to push me away?"

She turned from me, staring straight ahead at a model-thin girl across the room getting her nails done. "I…I don't want you two to get together and then break up, because we won't be friends anymore after that."

Oh. That was not what I had been expecting. "That's not going to happen. Regardless of what happens between me and Eric, you and I will always be friends. You can call me any time. We'll still hang out like this." I meant it too. Even if, for whatever reason, Eric and I didn't work out, Pam still needed me. And I wanted to be there for her; she'd had enough people abandon her.

She was quiet for a long time after that, silent as her feet were being dried off.

"Does it make you happy when you see him?" she finally asked, turning her head to look at me. "Do you smile extra wide, even though you're trying to act unfazed? And after you leave, do you waste hours thinking of excuses to see him again?"

"Why? Is that what Alexei told you love was?" I tried to joke.

"No. It's what Eric said about you."

Oh.

"Oh". She was full of surprises today.

"Yeah. We argue about you. A lot." Then, as I was trying to absorb that bomb, she decided to go in for the kill. "Do you want to kiss him?"

I started coughing uncontrollably and nearly everyone in the little salon turned to glare at me for disrupting the serenity or some shit, like it was my fault I couldn't breathe. I'd like to see one of them respond normally under the same circumstances.

"Is that something else Eric said?"

She shook her head, her meticulously done hair sweeping her shoulders. "Nope. I was just wondering." Then her eyes rolled back as the warming lotion was massaged into her feet.

"Are you going to be upset if I say yes?" I asked, the same calm overtaking me. I only got pedicures done as an indulgence a few times a year, and I always forgot how wonderful they were.

"I'll probably just throw up a little in my mouth. No big deal."

I smiled. "Then, yes, I'd like to kiss your father."

"Eww," she replied. Pam pressed a few buttons on the remote of her chair. "Saying it like that just makes it sound worse. Let's just call him Eric and ignore the fact that he's biologically responsible for me being on the planet."

I really wanted to laugh at that, but managed to control it. Chalk it up to a May Day miracle a day early. "No can do, little missy."

"Why not?"

"If Eric wasn't your dad, I would have kissed him already."

"Gross."

I really did laugh that time. "It's not gross. Some day you're going to want to kiss someone. And your daddy's going to be the one throwing a fit."

It wasn't until we were back in the car all painted up and pretty that she brought up Eric again. I had figured that was as much progress as we were going to make on that front for one day, but Pam was being awfully talkative. I could see her squirming in the backseat through the rear view mirror.

"I've never seen him with anyone. Not even my mom." She sighed and pulled at the hem of her—of course—lavender top. "I know I'm being a selfish brat and that you both like each other and Eric said that you won't date him until I said I was fine with it. And we're friends. And Eric's my dad. And I want you both to be happy."

"What are you saying, sweetie?"

"If you want to be with Eric, then I'll try to be okay with it."

I focused on the road and on keeping my smile from blooming past happy into crazy territory. Right then, I was ecstatic. Maybe later all those irrational fears would creep in, but, in that moment, I let myself enjoy the possibility of seriously being with Eric.

At the entrance to Eric's neighborhood, I had to stop and give the attendant my name and who I was visiting. Apparently he had already told them to expect me, so I was given the go-ahead straight away. Pam had to direct me where to turn, because all the houses and streets looked the same to me. I pulled into the driveway next to Eric's shiny convertible.

Before Pam and I went into the house, I stopped her. "If you're ever not okay with us—"

She cut me off. "Just don't kiss in front of me. I will puke."

We walked inside, and Pam went straight to her room, ignoring Eric. He stood up from his chair and approached me. I wrapped my arms around him and held myself tightly to him. I let myself become attached to the idea that I could do that whenever I wanted.

"Not that I'm complaining, because I'm most certainly not, but what is this for?"

"Ask your daughter?"

His eyebrows knit together. "Pam?" he yelled.

"You're better when you're near her. Happier," she replied from her bedroom.

"Is she saying…" I nodded, and he smirked. "Sookie Stackhouse, would you like to have dinner with me tomorrow night?"

I nodded again, a little more exuberantly. "Yeah. Yes, I would love that."

* * *

A/N: Let me know what you thought.


	11. Songbirds and Mockingbirds

Disclaimer: SVM belongs to CH.

* * *

May first.

A new month. A new attitude.

I was giddy, practically spinning and gliding around the library in my blue pumps as I placed the recently checked-in books back in their rightful places. Judy Blume. The Ramona books. Magic Tree House series. Even the menial task of checking in and out of books made me feel ecstatic. I smiled and gabbed with Mr. Eckert's third graders that came to use the library computers for an online science program since one of the French classes was in the lab that day.

It was a wonderful day.

I bopped in the car listening to my 90s music playlist, oblivious to anything other than my good mood and the fact that I'd be on a date with Eric Northman soon. I giggled my way through "Hit Me Baby One More Time," recalling how much Gran had hated Britney Spears. She forbid me from listening to her in the house—even called her a floozy once, a serious thumb down from Gran—so I had to sneak over to Tara's house to listen to every new single.

My cell rang right as I was unlocking the apartment.

"Hello, Gran. How are you doing on this fine spring day?" I answered. I walked into my bedroom and pulled my raspberry pink dress out of the closet.

"My, my, you sound awfully cheerful, Sookie. Is there something I should know about?" Oh, you know, just that I have a date with a guy who makes me flustered and horny anytime I'm near him.

"Nope. Why'd you call? Is something wrong?"

She laughed. "No, dear. I just called to tell you that our Descendants of the Glorious Dead group has decided to go on a tour of Louisiana Civil War battle sites next weekend."

She'd told me about it before. "I thought that wasn't until June."

"Caroline Bellefleur is insisting that we move up the date since Andy is marrying that school teacher, Halleigh, on that weekend. And the only one that works for everyone is the weekend of Mother's Day."

I froze at that. But…but… "Gran, we always have a cookout at your house on Mother's Day." Every Mother's Day since our parent's death, Jason and I would go to Gran's house, along with half the town, and have a huge party. Maxine Fortenberry always brought several pies of her prize chocolate cheesecake. And Bud Dearborn cooked the steaks on his massive grill. It was a tradition that went well into the evening, almost like Thanksgiving for the entire town.

"I know. We're moving it up a week. I was hoping you'd be able to make it."

"Of course," I said instantly. And then my brain caught up with me. Sunday. Pam's day. I really shouldn't cancel on her, especially right after she expressed fears about me ditching her for Eric. Fuck. "I don't know, Gran. I'm sure I can work it out. I just need to talk to Pam and Eric, and I'll get back to you."

I sat down on my bed and sighed.

"Pam is your new little friend?"

"Yes, ma'am." I nodded, even though she couldn't see me.

"And Eric is her single father?" Of course, she would remember that detail.

I threw myself back on the bed and stared up at the plain white ceiling. "Yes. I…We're actually going out to dinner tonight. On a date."

"What's he like? Is he handsome? Is he better than Bill?"

I giggled. "Way better," I replied. "He's…he's great, Gran, a great father, a great man. I think you'd like him."

"Then you should bring them this weekend," she said. I coughed, choking on my own spit. Did she really just say that?

"I don't think that's a good idea. We haven't even been on our first date yet, and it wouldn't just be Pam and Eric. Alexei would be coming too. He's fifteen and acts like Jason would if he was a prodigy. There wouldn't be enough room." Plus, we hadn't even been on our first date yet. How weird would that be to ask him to visit Gran with me? No, it'd be easier just to try and do something with Pam another day.

"If you don't want me to meet them, that's one thing, but do not make excuses. You know that we have your room and the upstairs. It's not warm enough yet that it'll be uncomfortable up there. There's more than enough room. Plus, if worse comes to worse, you can just share a bed with that new fella of yours."

"Gran," I screeched. My grandmother, the one who went to church every Sunday and chose to believe I was still a virgin, just suggested that I share a bed with Eric. Sweet baby Jesus.

"Don't you 'Gran' me. Just because I'm old-fashioned doesn't mean that I'm naïve."

I covered my face with my hand, sure my cheeks were the color of cherry tomatoes. "I'll talk to Eric tonight and see what he wants to do."

"Good," she replied. "And I do hope that if this weekend doesn't work for him, you'll bring your man around to meet me sooner rather than later."

I sighed, propping myself up on my elbows and looking out at my hanging dress. "We haven't even been on a date; I don't think I can lay claim to him yet."

She completely ignored my comment. "Call me back when you know if you'll be here this weekend and how many you'll be dragging along."

"I will, Gran. I love you. Bye."

"Bye, sweetie."

I took off my pumps and started undressing, first shimmying out of skirt, and then pulling off my silk blouse. I plugged in my iPod to my speaker dock, putting on Elvis, and tried to push away the weird mood that Gran's phone call had ushered in. After "Heartbreak Hotel," "Polk Salad Annie," and "A Little Less Conversation," I was back to shaking my hips; the King always put me in a better mood—even his sad songs made me feel good.

I ran my hand over my legs to check for stubble. I'd shaved in the shower that morning, but figured a once over couldn't hurt. Better to be safe than sorry. Ames found me standing in the tub with shaving cream on my legs, wiggling my ass, and singing loudly. She sat on the closed toilet lid and watched me act a fool.

"You look happy," she remarked.

"I have a date." I giggled and looked down, making sure that I didn't miss a spot. That would be embarrassing if Eric was touching my legs and found a patch of stubble.

"Mr. Tall and Sexy?" I nodded. "About time."

There was a knock on the door, and I asked Amelia the time. It was too early to be Eric, so I went back to shaving while Ames answered. She came back into the room carrying a bouquet of yellow and white irises wrapped in a white ribbon.

"Those are pretty," I said, and she placed them on the counter.

"They're yours." My grin broke out. I hadn't gotten flowers in ages, maybe since Sam took me to senior prom however many years ago. Quinn hadn't bought me flowers. I didn't really count Bill's 'I'm sorry' red roses that he bought whenever he fucked up. He knew how I felt about using flowers as an apology. "Who are they from?"

"Do you want me to look at the card?" I nodded. She pulled out the little piece of paper that had been tucked inside the ribbon. As her eyes followed the words, her smile grew. "Eric. He says that he is eagerly anticipating your date. But his choice in flowers is a little…untraditional."

"I like them," I defended. "Maybe there's some significance to them."

Ames gasped and ran from the room, leaving me still standing in my underwear in the bathtub, staring at a bouquet of irises. She came back a minute later with her laptop and started typing. "Well, my dear Sookie, according to the internet, white irises represent purity and yellow ones symbolize passion. That sounds promising. You need some good loving."

"Amelia, I broke up with Bill less than a month ago."

She rolled her eyes at me. "I said _good_ for a reason. You never once sounded satisfied when he was over here."

"Not everyone is a screamer like you," I snapped back, but she had hit a nerve. Sex with Bill had been great in the beginning. I couldn't pinpoint when it started going downhill, but it did. And by the end of our relationship it had started to feel more like an obligation than lovemaking.

She shrugged, knowing full well that she had reminded me of something I'd wished to eradicate from memory. "I fully believe that everyone has it within them to be a screamer. You just need the right lover."

I rolled my eyes. "Can we finish this conversation later? I need to finish getting ready."

"Sure, sure." She said, leaving me alone in the room. I dried off my legs and applied my favorite lotion.

Eric had said that dinner was going to be pretty relaxed, so my dress was casual but cute. Amelia called it my sock hop dress, because it reminded her of something from Grease. I buttoned it up and went back to the bathroom to touch up my makeup. I didn't wear much normally, but I added a few blinks of mascara and a swipe of lip gloss.

I tried out doing my hair a few different ways, but finally decided to just leave it down, letting the natural waves hang loose around my face.

I was pacing the living room, unpacking and repacking my purse, and singing along to "Can't Help Falling in Love" when I heard the knock on the door. It was a confident knock. A knock of a man who was sure of himself. My fingers trembled as I reached for the doorknob, a nervous-excitement overtaking me. This was really happening.

"Hello, Sookie." He wore black jeans, a white button-up, and the most tantalizing smile. I'm sure mine matched his. "Did you get the flowers?"

"I did. They're beautiful. Thank you." We stood in the doorway awkwardly for a few seconds. "Am I dressed right for what we're doing?"

He nodded slowly, his eyes tracing me up and down. "You look lovely." He cleared his throat like he was clearing his thoughts. "Are you ready to go?"

"Give me one second." I turned off the music and grabbed my purse from the coffee table before presenting myself in front of him again. "Now I'm ready." He led me, his hand resting on my lower back in a way that was both comforting and titillating.

In his car, we fell into this weird silence. It was like we both wanted to say something, but were holding back. On my part, I was holding back launching myself at him. The only sound inside the vehicle was the music.

"In Utero," I said quietly as "All Apologies" ended and "Heart-Shaped Box" began.

"Yeah. And you were listening to Elvis Presley, right?" He said it more as a statement than a question, as if he knew exactly what was playing.

I tapped the fingers of my left hand lightly against my thighs. "Yeah."

Eric's hand came over to rest on top of mine, the weight of it preventing me from fidgeting anymore. "I'm going to say something, and, if you ever bring it up again, I'll deny it, but I feel like it's hanging over my head, so…" I looked down, his hand still on mine. I intertwined our fingers and squeezed lightly, waiting for him to continue. "I…I haven't been on a proper date in a long time."

"How long?"

His eyes begged me to retract the question. Finally, he sighed. "Since I found out Sophie Anne was pregnant. Pam's birthday is coming up in August, and nine months before that."

I was doing the math in my head. "Almost nine years? You haven't been on a date in nine years?" Really? Holy shit. Nine years ago I was going on my first date. It hadn't gone well. "The last date I went on ended in me walking out of the restaurant because my boyfriend was ogling the waitress. I'm sure this one will be better." Eric could hit me with his car and the date could have gone better than that one. Bill and I had already been fighting, he showed up half an hour late to the restaurant with no explanation, and then he drooled all over some seventeen-year-old redhead.

"God, I hope so. I've forgotten how to do this."

"Do what?" I asked. "Be charming? Be adorable? Be sexy? You've got all of those down pat."

"Adorable?" He practically sneered the word. Men.

"Oh, I'm sorry, Mr. Ego, do you not like that? I just call them like I see them," I replied, studying his profile. He made a face at me, so I responded maturely—sticking my tongue out at him. "So where are we going for dinner?"

"This little Irish pub, Cunningham's, downtown. It's really relaxed, and they make great food. Barry, the owner, he actually spent five years in Cork learning how to cook at a mom and pop restaurant. I'll always owe him. He gave me my first job after moving out of my dad's house."

"It sounds like there's a lot more to that story." I was so nosy with him. If Gran had been there, she'd have hushed me. I really needed to stop that.

"There is," he replied, his fingers curling tighter around the steering wheel. "And I'll tell you about it someday. But today we were on our first date. We're supposed to make awkward conversation and try to impress one another."

I smiled. "Okay then, Mr. Northman, amaze me."

He turned his whole head to look at me, a confused smirk on his lips. "Why do you that? You call me by my last name at the most curious times." I blushed. "Oh, now you must tell me."

"I don't know that it's proper first date talk." He just looked at me. "It was back when we first met. I was trying to mentally distance myself from you, so I called you by your last name in my head. But it backfired on me because I dreamt about Mr. Northman." My voice kept getting quieter over the course of the last sentence, until I was nearly silent.

He gulped, his Adam's apple captivating me as it bobbled. "You're…"

Cunningham's was a brick building that had a stripped down charm to it. My heels clacked against the wooden floors as Eric and I were led to a table. I looked over the menu and decided to get shepherd's pie. Eric didn't have to look; he already knew what he wanted—steak, medium rare, and fries and a Guinness.

Eric was right. The food was so good that it even put Gran's shepherd's pie to shame, not that I'd admit that to her. Over dinner, we talked about work, his and mine, which was something that we had never really done except in passing. He told me that he had to fire one of his bouncers because he kept letting in underage college kids, and that he was now in the process of finding another one. I told him about my day in the library and how much I loved my work. And it just felt good to talk to him, almost natural, like we'd been doing it for years.

After dinner he took me to the independent cinema that was showing classic films. For a Monday night it was pretty crowded in the theater, but the movie playing was To Kill A Mockingbird. He couldn't have known how much I loved it, but somehow he managed to pick the perfect film for us to watch.

Eric lifted the armrest between us, and I snuggled into his side. His arm came around to hold me in place.

"Gran and I used to rent this movie every summer and watch it for her birthday. Still do," I told him.

"Pam and I watched it last year. It's why she calls me Eric. She said that if Scout can call her dad by his first name, then so can she."

We settled in and watched the movie in comfortable silence. His fingers played with my hair from time to time, and it kept me from going fully into the world, but there was no way I was going to ask him to stop. When the movie ended and the lights came up, his hand reluctantly left my head, but I didn't make a move to untangle myself from him. We were the last ones out of the theater, exiting with his arm around my shoulders and mine around his waist.

"I talked to my Gran today," I said in the car as he drove me back home. The multi-colored city lights blurred as we raced past.

"Oh?" he asked, realizing that there was more to the story than that.

"Yeah, and feel free to say no. I told her how Pam and I do something every Sunday, but she's having her Mother's Day barbecue a week early so I won't be able to do that. I told her, and she invited you guys—all of you: Alexei and Pam and you—to come to Bon Temps with me on Saturday, stay the night, and then stay for the barbecue. You don't have to. I can just see if Pam wants to do something another day. It's really not a big deal."

He squeezed my hand, silencing me from my rambling. "Would you like us to go?"

Would I? Yeah, I wanted Eric to meet Gran. She'd love him. I knew she would. And I didn't want to let Pam down. And, honestly, Alexei could use a dose of Gran to straighten him out. But… "It seems a little soon to be meeting my family."

He laughed at that. "You've already met mine. You've even been over for dinner. But that's not what I asked. If you don't want us to go with you, then we won't. If you do, I'll rearrange my schedule and be ready to go on Saturday. It's up to you."

I still hadn't given him an answer when he parked at my apartment building. Or when we took the elevator up. Or when we stopped in front of the door. The word was bubbling on my lips, begging to be spoken, but I just couldn't say it.

I swallowed, wetting my throat. "Yes." He smiled. "Yes, I'd like you to come to Bon Temps with me."

"I'll pack a bag." I was tempted to tell him about Gran's comment about sharing a bed, but thankfully my brain closed that valve when he wrapped his arms around me.

He smelled like pepper and pine and man. He smelled delicious.

"I think this date went well," he murmured into my hair.

"I think so too." My voice was muffled, my lips against his chest. Eric pulled back.

"Does that mean that I get a second date?" He lifted his eyebrow, his own personal question mark.

"You don't consider going to Bon Temps a date?" I asked, and he quickly shook his head.

"If it involves children, it's not a date." Good to know. "But you didn't answer my original question." I seemed to be doing that a lot.

"Yeah. I think that I could probably pencil you in for a second date."

"Good."

I watched as he closed his eyes and lowered his forehead to mine in what was apparently becoming our go-to embrace. His lips were so close to mine—our breath combining and becoming indistinguishable—and the temptation was too much to take. The thought that I could kiss him whenever I wanted (whenever Pam wasn't present) flashed like warning lights in my brain.

I braced myself by gripping his upper arms and tilted my face toward his.

His lips were warm. Firm. It took him less than a second to respond, our lips moving together. Synchronized. The comfortable rhythm we had when we danced seemed to extend to kissing as well.

My fingers clenched his biceps as his hands found my hips, pushing me until my back was resting against the apartment door. His lips grew hungrier, almost demanding more, which I gladly gave. My lips parted. His tongue introduced itself to mine. And they got along swimmingly.

I was awoken from my Eric-induced nirvana by the sound of jangling keys and a door down the hall closing. I took his face in my hands and pulled away, though I desperately didn't want to. The feel of his rough stubble against my palms didn't help the tingling dissipate either.

"Wow," I panted.

"Yeah," he replied sounding just as breathless as me.

"I should go inside."

"I shouldn't." He mumbled something here sounding like "no matter how much I want to be inside."

"I'll call with details about this weekend." I tried to get my breathing under control.

"I can't wait," he replied. "Good night, Sookie Stackhouse."

"Good night, Mr. Northman." He groaned, stole one more kiss, and strolled down the hallway toward the elevator, only looking back once.

* * *

A/N: This is the longest chapter of AS so far. I really hope that you like it. Oh, and the restaurant that Sookie and Eric go to is based of a pub in Tulsa, McNellie's. They make the best mashed potatoes I've ever tasted.


	12. All About Alexei

A/N: I was going to do the whole weekend as one chapter, but it started getting out of hand. Therefore, you get Saturday this chapter and Sunday next chapter. Also, the World Cup kept distracting me. This chapter's been done since this morning but the US was playing. I think I'm going to put a link on my profile to the kid I see as Alexei. He's a male model named Gordon Boethe.,

Disclaimer: SVM is not mine.

* * *

I growled in frustration. "We don't need to take two cars to Bon Temps, Eric."

"Fine," he replied, staring me down on their front lawn. Pam and Alexei were standing on the front porch watching us. Pam looked bored. Alexei looked like he had money on the winner. "We'll take my car."

"Your car is tiny, barely able to seat four, let alone all of our bags." Eric looked hurt, as if by insulting his car, I had somehow insulted him personally. He probably did feel that way."I know my car is American-made and not as pretty, but it gets better gas mileage."

Pam piped in, "Dad, you know she's—"

He interrupted her, still staring at me. "Quiet, Pam." God, that man was so stubborn. I was starting to see where his daughter got it from. "Fine. We'll take your car."

I smiled. "Good. Plus, I'd hate to hear you whine about how dirty your precious convertible would get driving through the back roads."

We loaded up all the bags into the trunk and headed toward Bon Temps. Pam had actually seemed excited to see where I grew up when I called her on Tuesday to tell her about it. She didn't ask, and I didn't offer anything, about my date with Eric the night before. It seemed like she was content to ignore that it was even happening. I wasn't sure how that was going to work out for her.

I plugged in my iPod to the sound system and handed it to Eric. "Alexei, what do you want to listen to?" I didn't feel like I knew him at all. Eric and Pam both talked about him, but I hadn't spent that much time really talking to him, not like I had with the others. Hopefully that would change.

"You have Foo Fighters or Incubus?" he asked.

"Both. Which one do you want?" I asked, glancing at him in the rearview mirror. He was crammed in the back seat, only a little shorter than Eric, but I was sure he'd hit a growth spurt and be just as tall soon. He was built just the same way.

He met my eye and almost looked, dare I say, impressed. "Incubus."

I glanced at Eric, but he was already fidgeting with the click-wheel. "What's your favorite of their songs?"

Alexei's eyes narrowed, bouncing up and down as he thought. "'A Certain Shade of Green' or 'Idiot Box.'"

Eric put on "Idiot Box" for him. I smiled. "Were you even alive when that album came out?"

He laughed. "I think I was three."

"Geez. Way to make me feel old."

"I actually learned about them from Eric's old CDs. Can you believe that? Before iPods they used to put music on optical discs," he teased.

"Hey now," I replied. "None of that. If you start making fun of my walkman I'm going have to whip you."

"What's a walkman?" My jaw dropped, and that boy just laughed like he was Bill Murray doing stand up.

I turned to look at Eric, who was smiling as happy as a clam. "Take the wheel. I have to take care of something." I pretend to be crawling into the backseat. Both of them laughed at me. "Okay, Pam. You get to pick the next song, so start thinking."

She was quiet for a few seconds. "Johnny Cash. 'I Walk the Line.'"

"Geez Louise." I secretly wondered if Eric had brainwashed them or forced them to only listen to music he liked. Whatever the case, I was impressed. "Have I told you how much I adore you, Pam? That's one of my favorite songs."

"Mine too."

We took turns picking songs the entire drive down there. Alexei kept trying to catch me off guard by picking something he thought I wouldn't have—Eminem or Kid Cudi or Smashing Pumpkins. Pam stuck with Johnny Cash. Eric was all over the place. As soon as Pam picked her song, he would start scrolling through looking for his choice. "Sleepyhead" by Passion Pit. "I Want it That Way" by the legendary Backstreet Boys. "Ain't No Sunshine" by Bill Withers.

The hour drive flew by—though occasionally I'd catch myself singing along with the music—and before I even had time to have a panic attack, we were pulling onto Hummingbird Lane. Gran was sitting on the porch swing when we pulled in, and, despite my attempts to help, Eric and Alexei (mostly Eric) insisted on carrying our bags. I gave Gran a big hug, introducing her to Pam, who had shadowed me.

"Gran, this is Pam. Pam, this is my Gran." Gran smiled wide at her.

"Aren't you just a peach?"

Pam glanced from Gran to me to back to Gran. "Is that a good thing?" Gran laughed.

"Yes, it is. Sookie said that you dressed well, but I'm surprised. I never expected this." She waved her hand at Pam's hot pink cardigan and matching skirt. "You look like a darling."

Eric and Alexei came up the stairs behind us and stood. I looked like I was being flanked by tall, pretty bodyguards. The family had good genes; I had to give them that. I nodded toward my left. "Gran, this is Alexei."

Gran smiled at the auburn-haired teenager like he was the one she had been waiting to see. "Pleased to meet you."

And then I turned my head to the right to look at him. He took a step forward, indulging me. I was fine until I had to introduce him, and then it was as if someone dropped a whole heap of nerves on me. I wanted Gran to like him, because I liked him. And because she had adored Bill. "This is Eric Northman."

"Well, my my." And then my seventy-two-year-old Gran proceeded to ogle my…Eric. I blushed at her behavior, but he smirked and stood a little taller, looking smug. "Sookie, you didn't tell me that he was _this_ handsome."

He stepped forward and took her hand. "It's nice to meet you, Ms. Stackhouse. I've heard a lot about you."

"Please, call me Adele. Let's go into the house." We all followed her into the living room. "We have two beds upstairs and Sookie's old room downstairs. I don't know what the sleeping arrangements are like, but I'll let you all get settled."

She left us staring at one another, though I was trying to avoid Eric's eye. I knew exactly what would happen if Eric and I were in the same bed. And, as much as I wanted him, I didn't want our first time together to be in a house with my grandmother and his kids. Then the ever helpful Alexei spoke, "I'll take one for the team. I'll share a room with Sookie."

I gasped. Eric growled. And Pam sighed.

I finally gained my composure. "Pam can stay with me in my room. Boys stay upstairs." I pointed up and glanced at Pam. She nodded at me that she agreed with the plan. "Where are our bags?" Eric handed me mine, still looking pissed. Then he yanked Pam's pink bag from Alexei.

I led Pam to my old bedroom and shut the door behind us.

"Well, that was awkward." I laughed.

"Yes. Yes, it was," I replied.

Pam and I sat on my bed and decided to have our talk early since we didn't know if we'd have free time on Sunday. She told me that Eric was mad because she failed her math test. Pam hadn't mentioned that she was failing intentionally, like Eric thought she was, so I didn't bring it up. I agreed that she probably was, but I didn't feel it was my place to intervene. She still hated most of her classmates, but mentioned a girl named Felicia. It was with a weird smile though, which left me unsure of if they were best friends or if I needed to be worried about her getting kicked out of school for fighting.

Then, she surprised me by bringing up my date with Eric. "He's been happy this last week. And he keeps humming love songs. I could get used to him like this, as strange as it is."

We left the sanctuary of my room and went into the kitchen. Alexei didn't even avert his eyes from the television as we walked through the room. Gran and Eric were sitting at the kitchen table, laughing like old friends. Pam hopped up on her dad's lap, while I went to the fridge to pull out the ever-present pitcher of sweet tea. I poured me a glass and leaned against the counter.

"Oh, Sookie," Gran said after she finished a story about me tripping in my prom dress and scraping up my forearms. "I forgot to tell you. Bill's been staying at his Uncle Jesse's and is going to be at the barbecue tomorrow." She forgot? I didn't believe that for one minute. Ugh. What was he doing in town in the first place? Bon Temps was my home. Yes, his uncle lived here, but he had to know that I'd be back this weekend.

Pam clapped her hands together. "Yay. I've missed Bill." I laughed at that. Them together in the same place made up for the fact that I'd have to see him at all. "Do you think he's missed me?"

"You've met Bill?" Gran asked her.

"Oh, yes. He and I got along quite well I'll probably be invited to his birthday party." And there was the Felicia smile again.

Gran glanced at me, and I shrugged. Then she looked at Eric, her new best friend. "Pam told him that it was a good thing that Sookie broke up with him and that she can do better. I personally agree with that assessment." I sipped at my drink, avoiding looking at him.

"Pam," Gran said. "Would you like to help me bake cookies for the barbecue tomorrow?"

"Sure," she replied, almost like she was unconvinced that was what they'd really be doing.

"And can you two go get the folding chairs out of the shed, please." I nodded. She _was_ up to something. We didn't keep folding chairs in the shed anymore. Jason had borrowed all of them for his Fourth of July party and never brought them back. "Thank you, dear."

Eric followed me out the back door and into the shed. "There are no folding chairs." He did his little eyebrow quirk. "Jason has the chairs. Gran knows this. I think she just wanted to give us a little alone time." I looked down, feeling his hand squeeze mine.

I released his hand, choosing to wrap my arms loosely around his waist. Eric placed a quick, chaste kiss on my lips. I pulled him back for another, slower this time. His fingers traced up my spine, one of his hands resting on the back of my neck. The other on my hip pulled me closer. His delectable lips moved against mine, sucking my bottom lip into his mouth.

"Your lips are amazing," I gasped out.

He spoke between quick kisses. "I'm rather fond of yours as well." He placed his forehead on mine and combed his fingers through my hair. "Are you ever going to act like we're dating in front of Alexei or Pam?"

"What do you mean?" But as soon as the words were out of my mouth, my brain tapped on my shoulder. I knew what he meant. I hadn't really talked to him much, and I had completely eliminated all physical contact. I'd basically relegated him back to casual acquaintance rather than the man who made me smile when we talked on the phone and starred in every dream I had since our date. I didn't want it to be weird for the kids.

It sounded weird even in my mind to refer to Pam and Alexei as "the kids," because it made it sound like I was claiming them as mine. And I didn't want them to think that I was trying to sneak my way into their lives. Mostly, I was worried about Alexei's reaction. His comment in the living room didn't calm me one bit.

Eric slipped his hand into mine, raising them to eye level. Well, my eye level. "This. They both already know that we're dating. And they both like you. It's going to be more uncomfortable for them if we act differently in front of them, like we're hiding something."

He had a point. "Okay. You're right."

"Say it again." Eric smiled when I refused.

The crunch of gravel and the rumble rumble purr of an engine alerted me to Jason's arrival. Wonderful. Jason had hated Bill, absolutely loathed him. Bill felt the same way. More than once he called him a dullard. To his face.

I tensed. This could go one of two ways—Jason would despise Eric just as much as he had Bill or Jason could be indifferent to Eric at all. I was hoping for the second one. "My brother," I muttered, settling Eric's curious face and relaxing his protective stance. "Come on. We might as well get this over with." I tugged at his hand.

When Jason climbed out of his pickup, we were there waiting for them. Jase ignored Eric's existence, but he hugged me. "How you doin, sis?"

"I'm doing well. Did you bring the folding chairs for tomorrow?"

He tapped his truck. "They're in the back." Then, for the first time, he looked at Eric. But spoke to me. "You know that Bill's been around every weekend, running around with Selah? He's been saying he dumped you and traded up. I was going bitchslap him, but I didn't know what you'd think about that." I snorted.

"I don't waste my time thinking about Bill Compton." My mind had been too busy writing odes to Eric's kissing abilities. "But he'd probably press charged if you tried to duel with anything other than pistols."

Jason spoke directly to Eric. "Will you be my second if it comes to that?"

"Definitely," he replied. "I've only me the guy once, but he seems like a dick."

"Eric." He just shrugged, unrepentant.

"I stand by my comment."

"I agree," Jason said. "It's good to see that you finally picked someone with a brain."

I huffed. "Don't you dare insult my taste in men when I've never once commented on your choice in women." Jase looked unbothered. I lifted our joined hands. "Eric, Jason. Jason, Eric."

"Nice to meet you, man," Jason said. "I've heard absolutely nothing about you."

Eric smiled at me. "I hope that's because we haven't been together long and not because you're ashamed of me." I shook my head. "Good. Do you want me to have Alexei help get the chairs from the truck?"

"I don't know who that is but sure," Jase replied.

Eric ran back to the house and came back with a pouty Alexei. Jason told us that we needed to put the chairs out in the backyard. Gran wouldn't let him drive any further into the yard and ruin her flowers, so that meant that we had to carry them. Jason and Eric walked together, having some sort of contest over who could carry more. Alexei lagged behind, so I changed my pace to match with his.

Eric and Jason were already headed back before we were halfway there. Eric winked at me, so I smiled back. Alexei made some sort of noncommittal huff.

"I've always wanted a sexy step-mom."

My feet felt paralyzed as I turned my head to look at him. He was wearing one of those Eric smirks. Damn family and their damn smirks. I recovered and kept walking.

I scoffed. "Okay, one, hush your mouth. Two, Eric and I have been on _one_ date. And three, wouldn't it be more like sister-in-law?"

He laughed at that. "It would be both. He's my legal guardian, so I guess he's my father and brother."

"Is that weird?" Alexei shrugged.

"It's better than the alternative." I asked him what that was and he was quiet for a minute. It was enough time to reach the stack of folding chairs. We put ours there and headed back. It wasn't until Eric and Jason passed us that he spoke again, quieter this time. "Military school. A foster home. My dad's house. Eric's not so bad."

"You know he loves you."

He nodded. "I know. It's not as much as he loves Pam, but she's his daughter." I opened my mouth to say something—I'm not sure what—but he just shook his head. "No, he does. And that's fine. He's supposed to."

I watched him as he spoke, his facial expressions so like Eric's. Pam's were just like his too.

"You Northmans all look alike," I said quietly.

"I'm not a Northman."

Huh? "What?" I hopped up in the back of the tailgate of Jason's truck, my feet dangling over the edge. Alexei sat down next to me, but his feet touched the ground. He'd definitely be as tall as Eric eventually.

"You know Eric changed his last name when he was eighteen. He gave me the option to choose, but I haven't decided yet." What? Why did he change his name? "Shit, he didn't tell you?" He must have read it on my face.

"No." Why wouldn't he have told me? Was it something he would have told me eventually? I mean, I hadn't told him everything about my life. Alexei let out a string of expletives that involved the most creative use of 'motherfucker' that I had ever heard. "Why are you freaking out?"

"Eric's going to be pissed. You can't tell him I told you." His big blue eyes were pleading and I turned all protective on him. I tried to rationalize it in my head. He hadn't actually told me anything Eric wasn't going to tell me eventually. It wasn't worth an argument.

"I won't."

"Thanks, Sookie."

* * *

A/N: Thoughts? Comments? Questions?


	13. What's In A Name?

A/N: And now the conclusion to their weekend in Bon Temps.

Disclaimer: SVM is not mine.

* * *

"Alexei, can you set the table?" Gran asked on Saturday night. We were having grilled cheese sandwiches and baked potato soup—nothing too big or difficult—for dinner because of all the food that Gran had prepared ahead of time for the big barbecue.

When Alexei didn't so much as huff or move from his spot at the kitchen table, Gran gave her best 'I mean business, mister' look. "I won't ask twice." His head spun to look at me so quickly that I thought he gave himself whiplash. Then he turned back to her to see her still staring.

He mumbled, "Yes, ma'am," and set the table without a complaint. Eric gazed at Gran as if he had just seen a miracle. And maybe he had.

Jason stayed over for dinner, and he and Eric and Alexei talked about sports from their side of the table, while Pam prattled on to Gran about what books she was reading. She even told her about how I had gotten her the Alice books, which earned me a knowing look from Gran. Of course she remembered.

Everyone was getting along. It was weird.

I kept waiting for the fallout to occur.

After dinner, Pam tried to convince Gran to let her watch _A Streetcar Named Desire_, even though we all thought it was too mature for her. Pam, stubborn to a fault, sweet-talked Gran and almost got her to relent before Eric flat out refused. They watched _Casablanca_ instead.

Alexei and Jason went outside to play football after dinner, or, I guess, to play catch. He seemed fascinated with my brother, and I prayed Jason wouldn't say anything stupid. Or become his new role model. Jason wasn't fit to be an example to anyone, except for anyone wanting to be the town man-whore. Eric would probably blame me if that's what happened to Alexei.

Speaking of Eric, my mind raced with questions for him, but I couldn't think of a way to ask and leave Alexei out of it, so I suffered in silence. I hoped that he'd tell me soon. It didn't change anything—he was still Eric—but it left me curious. Why would he change his last name? What was gained from him doing that?

We were in the kitchen—me stirring peaches, sugar, and water in a saucepan and him sitting at the table watching me. He asked what he could do to help, and he pouted a little when I said he could sit there and look pretty while I made peach cobbler. I found it very endearing that he wanted to help, but I was mean in the kitchen. I didn't like help; I didn't like delegating tasks. If he was making something else, I could have dealt with that. But I could handle peach cobbler all on my lonesome.

His voice broke through the concentrated block I had going while stirring in the flour, milk, and the rest of the sugar. "How do you think it's going so far?"

I glanced up at him. His hands were folded atop the table, his back straight, shoulders relaxed. The picture of control. "Great. Better than I expected. Gran loves Pam, like I knew she would. And Jason likes you guys. Trust me, you'd know if he didn't. He's very…blatant in his approval or disapproval." I laughed once. "He walked out of dinner with Bill halfway through, and Jason is not one to turn down food ever. I should have taken that as a sign. Jason may choose the worst women to date, but he's actually been a good judge of my boyfriends."

Eric smiled at that, but didn't say anything.

After the movie, Pam took a shower and went into my room to go to bed. Jason left and Alexei settled on the couch to watch Matlock with Gran, though he looked bored out of his mind. When my peach cobbler was done and sitting on a cooling rack, I dragged Eric outside on the porch swing. Because it was still a little nippy, I brought along the old afghan from the couch. I curled into Eric's side and he put his arm around my shoulders.

I felt safe. Protected. Like nothing bad could happen.

Maybe that's why my brain filter stopped working and I blurted out, "Why'd you change your name?" As soon as I said it, I wanted to smack myself. Eric stiffened beside me. Shit. "Forget I asked. I wasn't going to ask. I just…I…"

"Who told you?" His voice was quiet, emotionless. I felt queasy. I was going to puke all over him.

"Don't punish him. He thought I knew and he was trying to explain to me that he wasn't a Northman. It was my fault. And after he realized I didn't know what he was talking about, he stopped talking about it all together. I'm sorry. You really don't have to tell me. I mean, I haven't told you everything about me. And we've only been on one date. And we've only known each other a month. I mean, why would I know everything about you? I've lived with Gran most of my life and she doesn't even know everything about me. I…" I didn't get to finish the sentence. Eric put his hand lightly over my mouth.

"You're rambling." He sighed. For several long, agonizing minutes he was silent. And even though he had removed his hand from my mouth as quickly as he had placed it there, I chose to stay silent too, waiting on him to decide where to go.

"I would have told you eventually. In the same way that I would have told you about Sophie Anne had you not had to experience her insanity yourself. It would probably be easier to just tell you than to leave questions lingering." It sounded like her was partly speaking to me and partly to himself.

Eric audibly gulped. "I don't even know where to start." I leaned in closer and I could hear his heart thrashing around. His arms tightened around me and I felt like a child's teddy bear. "My father…for most of my childhood, he was fine. Distant. But never…and then my mom died giving birth to Alexei. And he was just…different after that. Sometimes he was perfectly normal. But others…He drank a lot. Got violent. I tried to shield Lex as much as I could, but it didn't always work. On Alexei's first birthday, the anniversary of mom's death, he got so drunk and he went into his room with a baseball bat. He was a tiny, helpless baby. I tried…I stood between him and the crib and just let him hit over and over and over, hoping that it would be enough for him. That he wouldn't kill him." Eric stopped to catch his breath; he was panting, and his heart sounded like a techno song it was pounding so much. I could feel the tears pricking at the edges of my eyes, but tried to will them away.

"When I turned eighteen, I just…I left. I knew it was wrong to leave Alexei; he was only five at the time, but I was just…tired of it, resentful. I moved to Shreveport and tried to shed everything from that life. I took my mom's maiden name. And got a job at Cunningham's. I started making a life for myself. Then Alexei's birthday came around." He took a deep breath here.

"I went back home and he had bruises all over his back. I took him from the school, checked him out, and took him to the police station. I wasn't financially stable enough to take him; I was barely feeding myself at this point, so he ended up bouncing around in foster care. I don't think he's ever forgiven me for that. When Pam was born, I talked to his case worker about getting custody. He was in a stable home at the time, so it didn't happen. Then he had a meltdown and became violent and the family couldn't handle him. I got him days before his tenth birthday."

Eric continued to stare off in the distance—headlights shined as a car turned onto Hummingbird Lane and pulled into the Compton house—but he still clung to me. I didn't know what to say. I felt awful that he had to live through that. I felt awful that I had brought it up and made him relive it. My stomach wanted to revolt and my heart hurt and my eyes were ignoring my command not to cry.

"Stop that," he said in a quiet but commanding tone. "I can feel you pitying me. Just don't. It happened a long time ago. It's over now."

"I'm sorry," I whispered.

"Sometimes we go through a bunch of horrible awful shit, but it makes us appreciate the good stuff so much more."

I took a deep breath and focused on getting control of myself. "I'm sorry I pushed you to tell me."

"I'm not," he replied, sounding almost upbeat. "I mean, there you have it. All of my secrets are on the table. Honestly, it feels good to tell someone."

I backed out of his tight hold so that I could get a better look at his face. He looked serene. A far cry from what I suspected was my red-rimmed eyes and mascara-smeared cheeks. Eric's hands came up to frame my face, his thumbs clearing away the last traces of tears.

"Are you okay?" I nodded. "Do you think differently of me?"

"Yeah. But probably not in the way you mean." How could he go through so much with his dad and Alexei and Sophie Ann and Pam and still be able to smile and laugh and be okay?

I felt close to him. He was right; I knew a lot of his secrets. And not one of them was a deal breaker for me. It just…felt fast. And it didn't. At the same time. And I didn't know which side to listen to.

We kissed a little—nothing stronger than a Disney PG-rated movie—and then went to our separate rooms, though I wanted nothing more than to curl up next to him.

When I woke up Sunday morning, the house was quiet. After changing, washing my face, and brushing my hair and teeth, I went into the kitchen for a cup of coffee. Beside the coffee maker Gran had left a note. It said that she took Pam and Alexei to church and that they'd be back a little after noon. Knowing Gran and how much she loved to chat after church, it would probably be closer to one.

Eric came into the kitchen after I had finished my first cup and was pouring my second. We mumbled out a good morning to each other, and I got him a mug. We sat down together at the kitchen table and stared across at one another.

"What time is it? Where is everyone?" His voice was low, scratchy, from recently waking up.

I looked at the digital clock that Jason had gotten Gran for Christmas. "It's eleven thirty. I can't believe I slept so late. Gran took the kids to church."

He looked incredulous. "My kids?" I realized that we'd never talked about religion and I hoped that he wasn't offended. "I can barely get them to get up to go to school in the morning. How in the world did she convince them to go to church?" I shrugged. Gran was magic; that was the only thing I could think of.

Thirty minutes alone. That's all we had.

I finished my mug and put it in the sink. Then I went and sat in his lap. His surprise barely registered on his face before it was replaced with smug satisfaction. I put my arms around his neck and brought my lips to his. He tasted like the last sip of lukewarm coffee and peppermint-flavored toothpaste.

I sighed when his lips fluttered against neck. His kisses were gentle, but his hold on my hips grew tighter. He tried to turn me so that I was straddling him, but the chair wasn't made for such a task. Eric fought me when I tried to stand, tried to pull me back to him. I tugged on his hands, forcing him to follow me. I backed my way into the living room, leading him to the couch. He sat down and held out his arms, inviting me to join him.

I stumbled closer and Eric wrapped his arms around my torso. I leaned down and played with his hair, running my fingers through the strands. My hair fell onto his head and I stared for a few seconds. "Our hair is the same color."

"Is it?" he asked, tilting his head up, inquisitive. I nodded, not sure where to go from there. Eric carefully pulled me down on his lap, and I readjusted myself so that I was straddling his legs.

His lips found mine again, and he kissed me as if we had millennia to waste. Unhurried. Gentle but confident. He clearly knew what he was doing, how to tease and satisfy, how to make me breathless but unwilling to stop for even a second. I couldn't recall a time feeling so fulfilled just from kissing.

His large hands on my lower back inched me closer, urging me to scoot forward. When I'd moved my hips enough for his liking, Eric lowered me to the couch. He balanced himself on his forearms that were placed on either side of me. His long, lean body felt amazing against mine, but not nearly close enough.

My fingers tangled in his hair as I stared into his smiling eyes.

"You're beautiful," he said. Then he kissed me again. His fingers began to inch up under my t-shirt, tickling the bare flesh of my sides.

Then the back door opened.

Eric and I pulled apart quickly. He sat up and pulled me with him, while I tried to readjust my shirt. Within a few seconds, Alexei was walking into the living room.

"Gran sent me to make sure you two had your clothes on. Apparently, she thinks it's okay for me to be scarred for life as long as she doesn't have to see her granddaughter being defiled on the couch." Behind his stern expression, a hint of a smirk was threatening to break free. "Also, Gran told me stories about that couch, and I don't think I'm ever sitting on it again."

"How was church?" Eric asked, unfazed by anything that had just been said.

"Riveting."

"Sookie," Gran called from the kitchen. "Can you come into the kitchen and help me?"

"Yes, ma'am," I replied. "Be back soon." I kissed Eric on the cheek, before making my way to the kitchen.

Gran and Pam were putting all of the chocolate chip and cornflake cookies onto platters. Pam's tray was precise, with exactly the same number in each row. Gran smiled at me.

"Can you start boiling a big pot of water for sweet tea?" I nodded.

We spent the next hour boiling and arranging and mixing and preparing. At one thirty people started showing up in the backyard. Terry arrived with a bunch of tables from the lodge and Alexei and Eric helped him set them up. More and more people arrived and the kitchen started to shrink, so I took Pam with me into my bedroom. She decided to change out of her church clothes, and I wanted to wear a dress since the day had warmed up quite nicely.

I chatted with Sam and Tara for a while, introducing them to Eric. And Pam, who never strayed too far from us. Alexei, however, was happier than a pig in mud. Not only was Jason there, he also had all the good youth group girls giggling over him. I'd have to warn them or threaten him before he chewed them up and spit them out.

Eric and I were making our way to our seats from the huge buffet of Southern goodies when I first spotted Bill. He was escorting Selah to the table where his uncle was sitting. Eric followed my gaze, and, though I could tell he really wanted to confront Bill, he let me lead him away.

We had almost lucked out and made it undetected to our table when Bill hollered for us to stop in the most cheerful voice. I plastered on my best fake smile and turned to face him. He was in his church suit, no doubt charming the socks off of the old choir ladies. "Bill."

"Sookie, it is wonderful to see you again. Who is your friend?"

I rolled my eyes, not bothering to hide my lack of amusement with his pretentious attitude. "You've met Eric before, Bill. Or maybe you've forgotten. You were distracted with his daughter, Pam."

Bill blanched, somehow managing to look even pastier than before. Say it with me now: sunlight. "It's too bad I didn't get to see your child again."

"Hey, Bill." I don't know how long she had been standing there waiting for him to say something about, but her timing was wonderful. Because his back was to her, Pam didn't get to see Bill have his 'oh shit' moment and look like he had just pissed his pants, but I thoroughly enjoyed it.

His features turned cool again before he turned to face her, and I watched as Eric subtly shifted so that he was in a protective stance. I could even see Alexei slowly inching forward. "Hello."

"So, I heard that you've been telling a bunch of people that you broke up with Sookie," she said a lot louder than she needed to for a normal conversation. "But I thought she dumped you after she caught you cheating. I mean, both stories can't be true." Pam smiled, managing to play the part of the adorable little girl perfectly.

Bill smiled at me. "I can't believe you are having a child fight your battles."

"I can't believe that you're so pathetic you to have to lie to get people to like you," Pam snapped back. "It's just sad."

"You fucking brat."

And then suddenly there was an army between Pam and Bill, and I was only somewhere in the middle. Eric, Alexei, and Jason were all circling Bill, like vultures hovering over a corpse. I really thought that Bill was going to get his ass handed to him, but Gran stepped in.

"William Compton, how dare you speak to a child like that? Pam is a guest in my home and I will not tolerate such language here. You should leave." He lingered for a few seconds, but must have decided that by staying he was signing his execution orders.

He turned to leave, and Pam, in her sweetest voice, said, "Bye Bill."

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A/N: What'd you think?


	14. The Karma Stick

A/N: Longest chapter thus far. Oy. I want to thank you all for your reviews. Even if I don't reply, I do read every single one and know that most of you want to adopt/kidnap Pam. Good luck with that. She won't go quietly.

Disclaimer: CH owns SVM. I just play around.

* * *

Sunday night, I dropped them off back at their house. I pulled into the driveway and got out to give Pam a hug. She was half-asleep—it must have been exhausting verbally bitch-slapping Bill. Alexei stepped up in line next, and I didn't know what to do. After a couple of awkward seconds, he gave me a side hug and said good night.

Finally Eric gave me a soft kiss, his lips lingering against mine, leaving me craving more. He twirled a strand of my hair around his finger and then brushed it behind my ear. Pulling myself from his embrace was getting more and more difficult, and the way his eyes were begging me not to leave showed that it was mutual. Neither of us spoke—I didn't want to say goodbye; it felt like I was always saying goodbye—even when Alexei came to get the keys from Eric, he simply handed them to him, his eyes never looking away.

"Stay." I couldn't tell if it was a question or a command.

"I can't." I had reasons. I knew that I did, but I couldn't recall a single one of them. Eric wanted me to stay. "I…I…"

He nodded and then kissed my forehead. "I'll talk to you soon. Good night, Sookie."

"Good night."

I didn't sleep well Sunday night. I tossed and turned and got out of bed more than once with the intention of driving all the way across town to Eric's house and begging to share his bed with him. After hours of restless off-and-on half-sleep, I got up and started making an apple-cheddar omelet. I had reached the point of sleeplessness where the quiet of the night was hilarious when disturbed by any other noise. The sizzle of bacon on the skillet made me giggle.

Despite heavy lids, I was able to make the omelet without burning myself or the apartment down. I only managed three bites before the queasiness entered my stomach, bringing with it the fear that I was going to upchuck all over the kitchen floor. It was entirely too early to be eating breakfast. I laid my forehead on the wooden table top and managed to sleep for another hour. I got up, showered, and got ready for the day.

I was busy all day Monday preparing for the end of the school year. I had to make lists for each of the teachers of which students had late books. After getting the list made in its entirety, I separated the names by grades. It took longer than it should have because of my sleep-deprived state, but I managed to get it done by lunch. After that, I was supposed to inventory all the books, but I decided to sit at my desk and read instead.

When I got home, I wanted nothing more than to curl up in bed for a nice long nap. What I found instead was a puffy-eyed Amelia sitting on the couch wrapped in a blanket watching the first season of The OC. She explained that she had seen Tray dancing with another girl at Glasir late on Saturday when she was supposed to meet him. She said that she'd been in her room since then, and I felt shitty for not realizing that earlier. I ran down to the little grocery store down the street and bought an armful of Ben and Jerry's. I wanted to ask her if she had even given him a chance to explain, but she was still at the hysterical stage where she wasn't ready to listen to logic.

After watching the episode about going to Tijuana, she whined, "I want a love like Summer and Seth."

She and Tray were good together from what I had seen. She was happy with him. And Tray was a good guy. I didn't think he would just cheat on her; he wasn't the type, and especially not where he knew he'd get caught.

My phone rang, so I took it into my bedroom.

Eric.

"Hey," I said, instantly feeling my mood spike. Too much time with a weepy girl had made me depressed.

"Hello, Sookie. How are you?" His voice made me feel all tingly. And the urge to run to him came back, but I fought it.

"I'm okay. How are you?"

"Good. Good. I was hoping that I'd get to see you today." Damn it, Amelia.

"I wish I could, but Amelia is having a breakdown and she needs me." I spoke with about as much sincerity as I felt. I loved Ames. She was my best friend, but she was keeping me from seeing Eric.

"Any chance I can convince you to ditch her?" Eric sounded hopeful, and it made me want to be a really shitty friend and tell her to call Tray or get over it. When I didn't answer, he sighed and I could imagine him running his fingers through his hair. "Are you busy Friday night?"

"No," I answered quickly. If I had something planned, I'd change them, cancel them. Maybe I could convince Ames to do something and get out of the apartment. I desperately wanted a little alone time with Eric. Hours and hours of just me and him.

He laughed. "Good."

"What are we doing?" I asked, already planning out outfits in my head.

"Surprise." Ugh. I hated surprises. I know lots of people say that but secretly love them, but not me. I didn't like the unknown. It gave me anxiety attacks. I groaned. "Quit that. I promise you'll enjoy this."

Sweet Jesus.

"Okay," I squeaked out. He laughed.

"How has your day been?" Horrible. I've been tired and cranky because all I could think about what was seeing you. And now you want to see me too and I can't because I feel I owe it to Amelia since she helped me after the break up with Bill. I'm also feeling extremely sexually frustrated, and I really want you to help me with that.

"It was fine, boring. I'm getting the library ready for summer, and it has more work than I thought it was going to be, but I'll survive it. How was your day?"

"My bouncer came into work looking mopey and that's bad for business. It makes him distracted and doesn't set the mood right for people entering my club. I tried to send Dawson home, but he said that would make it worse, so I'm letting him bartend tonight with Chow."

I giggled. "Then he must feel right at home."

"What do you mean?" he asked.

I sat down on the edge of my bed. "Well, Chow's always mopey when I'm around. I'm sure Tray's acting the same way." I could just imagine them being the saddest looking bartending team ever. Like mimes with painted on tears.

Tray's sadness just made me think that whatever happened between him and Amelia was probably a misunderstanding.

"Chow's mopey?" Um. Yes. He'd never said one word to me and always seemed put-out when I was around.

"Is he not that way all the time? Maybe I'm just special." Or maybe he just didn't like me. Whatever. As long as he didn't spit in my drink, I didn't care one flip whether or not he was going to be braiding me friendship bracelets to exchange.

"I'll have to talk to him about that," Eric said and I sighed.

"Don't, Eric. It's fine."

He huffed. Nothing good would come from him getting on to Chow for not liking me. It would just make him resent me more. This was a textbook case of it being better to just leave well enough alone.

"Do you have any food allergies? I already know you're not a vegetarian." Oh, so we were changing the subject. Good to know.

Wait. Was he making me food? "Are you going to cook me dinner? Is that what the surprise is?"

"Yes, partly. And I'm not sure if you're aware of this or not, but you have this annoying habit of answering my questions by asking questions of your own," he teased. Oops.

"Sorry. No, I'm not allergic to anything."

"Good."

Then Amelia screamed, "Sookie. Who are you talking to?"

I sighed into the receiver. "I have to go."

"You're a good friend."

"I wish I wasn't," I replied, "because that would mean I get to see you."

"I'll talk to you soon. And I'll see you Friday for sure." I took off my shoes and put them in my closet. I stared at my feet as I flexed my toes.

"Goodbye Eric."

"Bye Sookie."

I went back into the living room with Amelia and let her lay her head on my lap. I played with her hair as she cried about how she'd never find a guy to celebrate Chrismukkah with. I didn't bring up the fact that she wasn't Jewish. Finally, she wore herself out and fell asleep. I went into the kitchen, making me a ham and cheddar sandwich to make up for the Half Baked dinner I'd consumed earlier.

At work on Tuesday, I spent most of the day organizing the chaotic piles of newspapers, arranging them by date and year. The kids didn't read them that often, but the newspaper section always seemed to be in shambles. I needed to talk to Alcide about options for next year.

When I got to the apartment, Amelia was back on the couch watching season two, even though I knew that she had gone to work. At least she had gotten dressed for work. Her phone was sitting on the coffee table ringing. She reached for it, shut it off and went back to staring absently at the television.

"Are you not answering your phone?"

She turned her zombie eyes on me. "It's Tray. He's acting just like Bill, won't stop calling."

Oh, you've got to be kidding me. "Amelia, Tray is nothing like Bill and you know it. Did you even confront him or let him explain?"

"Tray was cheating just like Bill." I felt like pulling my hair out.

If she said 'just like Bill' one more time, I was going to flip out on her. "I caught Bill naked in bed with Lorena, writhing and moaning. And I broke up with him right then and there. You saw Tray dancing too close to some chick and ran out without talking to him and avoiding him for days." It was a complete guess, but she didn't contradict me.

Amelia turned back to the TV and ignored me.

Maybe I was being a horrible friend and a bit of a bitch, but I clamored around in the kitchen, making as much noise while deep-frying chicken strips as possible. I broke my own rule and ate in my bedroom—the only exception being when I was sick—because I was so upset. If she wanted to ruin her relationship with Tray, that was fine with me.

I was rereading _The Last Man_ when Pam called.

"Hey, Pam. What's up?"

Long, dramatic pause. And then a sigh. "I got suspended."

Damn it all to hell. I was on the receiving end of the karma stick this week. And it was only Tuesday. And I'd been good lately. I closed my eyes and let my head rest on my pillow in the hopes that it would relax me. It didn't. "What happened?"

"I cut Felicia's hair," she said quietly.

"Damn it, Pam. Why?" How could she do that? And why hadn't I warned Eric?

She sniffled. "She was being mean and said that I wasn't smart enough to be in fourth grade because I didn't pass the math test, but I did that on purpose. And, when I told her that, she said I was just making it up to look smarter. She said if Dad wasn't so rich then I wouldn't even be allowed to go to school there because I'm so stupid," Pam defensively replied. "And I…I hate her. I hate her so much, and she loves her precious hair. So I cut it, just a little piece, but she flipped out and slapped me."

I sighed into my hands and rubbed my face. On the one hand, I hated that she was being picked on. On the other, I wanted to tan her hide for cutting some girl's hair.

"How long are you suspended for?"

"The rest of the week." I started to wonder if she'd get her wish of being held back. "Dad is really mad. He has work during the day tomorrow, so I'm going to have to sit in his office in the club all day while he does whatever he does." That didn't sound like it was going to be pleasant for either one of them. He'd still be mad. And she'd be defensive.

"Can you understand why he might be upset?" I was upset. I could only imagine what Eric must have been feeling.

She sighed. "Yes. But he's being especially harsh about this. I'm grounded for three weeks. Three. No TV. No internet. No phone."

"Then how are you calling me?" I asked.

I could hear her gulp. "It's part of my punishment. I had to tell you what happened." Really? Why on earth would he make her do that?

"Why?"

She started sniffling again. "Because you're upset that I cut her hair too. I know you are. I can hear it in your voice." Was she really crying? "Can we still be friends even if you're mad at me? I won't do it again. I promise. I don't want you to be mad at me."

Aw. "Just because I'm…not pleased with what you've done and with the fact that you knew it was wrong and did it anyway, doesn't mean that I don't adore you. We'll still be friends, but you can't act like that, Pam. You can't cut the hair of everyone who is mean to you or the whole world is going to be bald."

"I know. I've got to go; Dad is telling me to hang up."

"Tell him I'll call him in a little bit. Goodbye Pam." I definitely needed to talk to him, but first I was going to call Alcide.

"Bye."

I got up and started pacing.

After taking the vice principal's lunch duty for a week after he let me cut out early, Alcide had erased that debt. And as much as I didn't want to owe him another, I called him up and asked for another favor. It only took a little bit of sweet-talking to convince him. Well, sweet-talking and agreeing to take personal responsibility if anything happened. And preparing his end of school presentation.

After I talked to Alcide, I called Eric. His hello was heavy with annoyance, though I knew it wasn't aimed at me. During one of our chats after our first date, Eric told me about all the trouble Alexei had gotten in. He had said that it was fine because at least Pam followed the rules.

"So, did you really want to take Pam to the office with you tomorrow?" I asked in lieu of a greeting.

"No, but I have to go into tomorrow and sign for the new shipments that are coming in, so I don't have a choice."

I hoped he didn't consider this overstepping. "She could come to school with me."

"Elaborate."

"I talked to my vice principal and he agreed to give Pam a visitor's pass for the day. She would stay in the library with me. And she could do her homework or read or whatever. If you want her there with you, that's fine. I understand. I just thought that this way she'd be at a school and not driving you crazy in your office."

He was quiet for a few seconds. "You didn't have to do that."

"I should have asked you first, but I wanted to make sure that Alcide would go for it."

"It's fine." I could imagine him making an erasing motion with his hand as if my jumping the gun was forgiven. "I don't want to inconvenience you."

"I wouldn't have gone to all the trouble if it would be an inconvenience," I replied firmly.

"Yes, you would have," he countered. "You put others' needs ahead of yours. Pam's my daughter. I'm the one responsible for her."

"I know that." I hadn't meant to insinuate any differently. "I was trying to help," I said quietly. Shit. He was mad.

He sighed. "I know. I'm sorry. I don't want you to feel like you have to take care of her. We've managed so far."

"I know. And I don't. It's really not an inconvenience. A hundred-some kids come in the library every day. One more isn't going to make any difference." He sighed again.

"Okay. But if she gives you any trouble, call me right away." I agreed, even though I was sure she wouldn't. "I'll drop her off at your apartment tomorrow morning."

We talked a little more, but I could tell that he was exhausted—I couldn't ascertain whether that was emotional or physical—so I said my goodbyes.

The rest of the night was boring, which was actually wonderful. I read another chapter of my book, showered, and climbed into bed super early. I slept soundly, got eight hours for the first night in a while. Since I had already showered, I started my morning process—washing my face, brushing my teeth and hair. I put on a little makeup and a gray and white dress.

Then I started making waffles. Ames came in after I had gotten the first off the waffle iron. She hugged me.

"I'm sorry for how I've been acting. I shouldn't have jumped to conclusions with Tray, but now I feel so stupid and don't know what to say to him. Thank you for putting up with me."

"Anytime. Hungry?"

She and I were eating when I heard the knock on the door. I hopped up so quickly that my chair knocked over. While I was putting it back, they knocked again. I finally made it to the door, opening it to find Pam standing there in a lavender dress—she had to be ecstatic about not wearing her uniform—and Eric standing there looking guilty, like he was the one who suggested that I take Pam instead of the other way around.

I looked down at her. "Did you have breakfast? I made waffles." She smiled at me and skipped to the kitchen. Eric stood in the doorway. "How are you doing?"

"Poorly. I don't know what to do. I talked to her teacher yesterday. With all the work she's going to miss and all her failed tests, she's not going to pass. A year of private school down the drain. A year of tuition down the drain. I don't think I should send her back there. She hates it, and I don't know what to do."

I didn't know what to do either, so I did what I would have wanted in that situation. I gave him a hug. His forehead fell to my shoulder, while his arms held like chains around my torso. "We'll figure it out."

I meant 'you'll figure it out.' I hadn't meant to say 'we.'

But he didn't react to that.

Eric turned his head to the side and left a trail of kisses along my neck. "You're intoxicating." He kissed again, his breath warm against my skin. He whispered in my ear. "Whenever you're this close, I just want to fuck you and bite you and rub myself all over you, and I have to work very hard to remind myself of why I can't."

And, sweet Jesus, I wanted that so badly that I couldn't think of a reason why we shouldn't do it at that very moment. I turned my face toward his, lips connecting almost instantly.

Pam, with her impeccable timing, stomped into the room. "I really didn't want to see that."

I pulled away. "Then go back into the kitchen, because we're not done." Eric laughed as she left heavy footsteps in her wake. He kissed me once more.

"I need to go. The first shipment should be in soon." I nodded. "I'll come by and get her about five."

"I'll see you then." One more kiss and he was out the door, leaving an empty feeling in my stomach, a heart ache, and a sigh on my lips.

Pam and I went straight into the office at the school to get her visitor's pass. Per Alcide's instructions, I wasn't supposed to let her out of my sight, but he didn't need to worry about that because she stuck close. While I started inventorying the library, she sat with her feet up on my desk and read _James and the Giant Peach._ She didn't so much as blink when anyone came in to get a book unless they talked to me, and then she stared, her analytical eyes studying.

We ate lunch in the cafeteria, sitting side-by-side. She said the food tasted the same as her school—no better, no worse. I told her that cafeteria food is cafeteria food wherever you go.

After lunch, she decided that she wanted to help me with the inventory, so I gave her the clipboard and a highlighter. She read the names of the checked in books and I found them on the shelf and made sure each was its proper place. Our pace didn't change any, but it gave me an opportunity to talk to her.

"Why are you failing on purpose?" She had told me she was on the phone, so I finally felt like it was free to talk about.

"_The Graveyard Book_. Neil Gaiman." Distraction technique. Wasn't going to work this time. I stayed quiet and waited for her to answer the question. "I don't know."

"You do know."

Her eyes turned as hard as sapphires. "I _hate_ being the freaky smart girl in the class. And they treat me differently because I'm younger. Plus, if I passed, I'd have to be in the same class as those dumbasses until I graduate." I didn't know if I was allowed to correct her language, so I stayed quiet. "Because you know that Dad is just in love with private school. Maybe next year he'll send me to a Catholic school and I can get swats for back-talking the nuns."

"Are you going to fail again next year?"

She shrugged. "I don't know."

"Your intelligence is a gift, Pam. And nothing is gained from you intentionally wasting that. Screw what everyone else thinks. You can't please everyone. All you can do is give your best and be happy with who you are. You're smart and funny and insanely protective. And you aren't going to be treated as well as you deserve, but you suck it up and keep going, you be nice in spite of how mean anyone else is because you're better than that."

She smiled. "That sounded a bit like a lecture."

I relaxed my stance; I'd apparently turned into Gran after she had caught me sneaking back into the house sophomore year. "I'm sorry."

Pam shook her head. "It's fine."

Back at the apartment, Amelia and Pam finished up the second season of The OC. They seemed to get along fine, probably because they were both abrasive. Pam told Ames that she needed to stop whining and call Dawson before he really did find someone else. Yeah, she called him Dawson, just like Eric. Amelia told Pam that if she was going to get kicked out of school for cutting someone's hair, then she should have left a bald patch. I tried to separate them, but they cackled like best friends, refusing to be apart.

I don't know which one I was more jealous of.

Right at five, Eric showed up dragging a flower-wielding Tray behind him. He spoke directly to Amelia. "He's bad for business. Listen to him grovel."

I smiled and hugged Eric, whispering, "I bet you five bucks they're in bed within an hour."

"I don't gamble."

I smiled. "Afraid you'll lose?"

He nodded, a smirk on his lips. "Absolutely. As much as I'd like to be in your debt."

God, was it Friday yet?

* * *

A/N: Thoughts on this chapter? Next chapter will be the date, so expect some citrus. Finally.


	15. Heaven and Home Runs

A/N: Lovely readers, thank you for your continued support.

Disclaimer: CH owns SVM

* * *

On Friday I was dancing around to Elvis again while getting ready for my date. I shaved, plucked, trimmed, and primped from the second I got home from work.

Cute red strapless dress: check.

Lacy boy shorts: check.

Fuck me heels: check.

I started singing "A Little Less Conversation," and Tray laughed at me; Amelia joined in with him. I told them to hush, but they just laughed harder. When Eric knocked, I skipped to the door—a dangerous thing to do in heels for sure, but I was too giddy not to. A night with Eric without distractions. Children. Interruptions. It was just what I needed. Wanted. Craved.

I wasn't so naïve that I didn't know what would happen if he and I had a little alone time.

Opening the door revealed Eric—wearing a white button up, dark denim jeans, and black Wayfarers—and Pam in a sea foam green skirt and white top. I hadn't expected to see her, and I'm sure I wasn't able to hide disappointment that occurred at the thought of her at our date. Ames, however, rushed to the door to give Pam a hug.

"We're going to have so much fun tonight," she gushed.

Eric turned on father-mode, or maybe it was more boss-mode. Either way it was hot. "Don't sit around making out with Dawson the entire time instead of watching my daughter. Her bedtime is nine. Don't let her drink pop or else she'll never settle down. She's not allowed to watch anything rated over PG regardless of what she tells you. And, for the love of God, no more OC. She won't stop singing the damn theme song, and I hold you personally responsible for that."

Amelia smiled wide at him. "Don't fret, Papa Bear. We'll be fine. Won't we, Pam?"

She nodded and pushed at his legs. "Go."

He picked Pam up and kissed her forehead. Then he whispered something in her ear. I'd seen him do it a few times and it always left me curious as to what he said, but I figured if he wanted us all to know, he'd say it out loud. She smiled at him. "Bye, Dad."

When he let Pam down, she came over to me, hugging her arms around my waist. "Bye, Sookie. Will I see you Sunday?" Sunday was Mother's Day. I didn't know how Eric usually handled that holiday, so I didn't know what to say.

I turned to Eric and then back to Pam. "Let me talk to Eric and we'll let you know."

"Okay," she replied cheerfully. "Now, are you guys going to leave or what?"

Eric put his hand on my lower back. "Bye. Have fun."

He led me to his car—that completely ostentatious convertible that he drove. It couldn't be practical with children, but it was a fairly newer model so maybe it was a recent purchase. He opened the door for me, and I slid onto the leather seats. After he was inside the car, before turning the key in the ignition, Eric leaned over and kissed me.

"It's been a long week."

"Amen," I replied.

Even though we had talked on the phone—and saw each other on Tuesday—it didn't seem like enough. I don't know that I really thought through what it would mean to date Eric. I couldn't just drop by randomly to have sex on the couch, but that hadn't really worked out all that well with Bill either. Plus, I got the feeling that Pam still wasn't ready to see me barefoot and in one of her dad's shirts cooking breakfast, though it sounded very appealing to me.

We didn't say much on the drive to his house, both of us content to bask in the comfortable silence.

At the house, Eric went straight to the kitchen turning on the oven for fifteen minutes. I watched him as he mixed up something in a sauce pan. "I _can_ cook," he informed me.

"I never thought you couldn't." He seemed skeptical of this.

"You wouldn't let me help you in Bon Temps."

I shook my head, not realizing that he might have interrupted my behavior that way. "It's not just you. I don't let anyone help me cook."

"Really?" he asked.

"Yeah. You can call Gran if you don't believe me. She makes fun of me for it." Eric took that in and removed took a pot out of the refrigerator, putting it on the fire. "Hey, so, about what Pam asked?"

"You mean about Sunday?" He stirred what I discovered was mashed potatoes, without turning to look at me.

"Yeah. It's Mother's Day. I didn't know how you usually observed the holiday, since your and Alexei's mom has passed on. And since Pam's mom is…"

"A psychopath," Eric offered. "We don't really celebrate Mother's Day. It was harder last year because she'd finally met her mother and she was in school, so she learned about the holiday. Last year, we had ice cream and watched Disney movies, even Alexei, but that's not a tradition or anything."

"Would it be weird if I saw her on Mother's Day?"

He turned and looked at me. "For us, it's just another Sunday. If it's weird for you, then we'll tell her no and she'll get over it."

I nodded. Was it weird for me? I usually spent Mother's Day with Gran, but that was out of the picture this year. It'd be just another Sunday for me too. "Do you think I could come over here and join you guys for ice cream and Disney movies?"

He nodded. "Yeah, I think we can do that."

Dinner was fantastic. He made baked pork chops with some kind of olive oil sauce and mashed potatoes. It was so delicious that I'm sure I moaned the entire way through dinner. When we were done, after he had cleared the table, he led me to a hallway off the living room to the last door.

Right outside the door, he paused, his hand holding the knob, and turned to look at me. "Can you promise me something?" I assured him that I could, though I had no idea if what he was going to ask was going to be possible let alone reasonable. "From this point on, we don't talk about the kids. If you mention them, I'll pretend I have no idea who you are talking about. I love them. I do. But right now, I need some adult time."

He didn't wait for me to respond, turning back to the door, twisting the handle, and pushing the door open.

I thought that we were going to his bedroom and was almost shocked about how forward that was just to usher me into his room. What was behind door number one, however, was nothing short of spectacular. It was the most incredible library I'd ever seen in someone's home. Floor-to-ceiling bookshelves on each of the four walls housed hundreds of books. In the center of the room stood a strong, wooden table and two large, plush leather chairs.

It was glorious.

"I think I just came." A few seconds later, when I realized what I had said, I blushed, glancing at Eric to see his reaction. If he had one, it had long since been replaced by passive curiosity.

I wandered around taking in the room and sneaking peeks at the shelves for what he was reading. Asimov's _The Intelligent Man's Guide to Science_. Kierkegaard's _Fear and Trembling._ Dante's _Paradiso_. My fingers skidded across the tabletop on my way around the room. It wasn't heavily lacquered, didn't feel store-bought. It was smooth and rough, sturdy and beautiful. It reminded me of its owner.

The next shelf contained some of my favorite authors: Doris Lessing, Sherwood Anderson, Flannery O'Connor, Virginia Woolf, Tom Robbins. This room felt like a reward, a goal you should strive for your entire life, a smaller version of heaven. Surely this was a gift for everything that had happened.

_Breakfast at Tiffany's._

_ Slaughterhouse Five._

_ Valley of the Dolls._

_ I am America and So Can You._ I giggled at seeing Stephen Colbert's book on the same shelf with Hemingway.

My eyes on the books, I could feel him more than hear him approach, somehow hypersensitive to his position in the room. My skin was vibrating with anticipation. Warm breath skimmed across my neck.

"If I wasn't so self-assured, I'd be hurt. You're ignoring me, Sookie."

I glanced over my shoulder at him. "What did you expect bringing a librarian into this room? Of course I'm distracted. I'd ignore crying infants and the house burning down in here."

He smirked, and his hands twirled me around to face him. With a determined look, he pushed me until I was flush against the bookshelf. "I'm sure I can think of some way to keep you focused." He kissed my bottom lip, sucking gently. And then my top. He kept trying to speak, but every time he'd pull away, I'd capture his lips again. After several minutes, he finally pulled back far enough to say, "This isn't what I brought you in here for, you know. I was hoping we'd finally get to discuss Blake."

"Later," I promised.

His firm lips took control, guiding me. And I followed his lead, letting go and letting him distract me from what had become my new favorite place in the world. He parted my lips, his tongue meeting mine. Somehow kissing him got better every time. One hand securely on my hips, the other slid up my spine until his fingers tangled in my hair.

Eric was in complete control, and I was more than happy to let him take charge. I turned my head, baring my neck to him. The rough stubble on his usually shaven jaw brushed against the sensitive skin as he trailed kisses along my neck before returning to my lips.

I tangled my fingers in his hair as Eric's hand on my hip surrounded my left breast, kneading it through my dress. My nipples strained against the thin, silky fabric.

Heart racing.

My entire body, all the way down to the tips of my toes, was tingling with need.

Eric kissed me with an air of finality and then pulled himself away, lowering himself to his knees in front of me. Another rush of arousal coursed through me as his fingers inched up the hem of my skirt, igniting goose bumps along my thighs.

Fingers slowly lowered my soaked panties. He lifted one leg and then the other, stuffing my panties into his pocket. He placed one leg over his shoulder, and bunched the skirt of my dress up around my hips. My hands reached out for something to brace myself—fingers clenching around one shelf, the other in his hair, hoping that my legs wouldn't completely give out.

His thumb circled my clit, teasing. My back arching. He chuckled softly before his fingers and tongue slowly began working in tandem.

Bringing me to the brink.

And then backing off.

Again.

And again.

He ignored my whimpers of protest. He ignored the way my chest was heaving, trying to recapture air for my empty lungs. He ignored when I threw my head back, banging it against a shelf. He ignored my groans and pants and moans.

And he pulled back again, kissing my inner thigh, and looked up at me. His eyes were dark, but glazed over when I whispered, "Please."

My eyes clenched as he sucked on my clit, a finger entering me, searching for my G-spot. The moment he found it, I fell apart, screaming out in ecstasy. Stars exploding behind my eyes. My body convulsed and Eric lowered my leg to the ground, his warm hands rubbing tenderly along my shaky thighs and smoothing out my dress.

When I opened my eyes, he was standing up. Eric's arms encircled my waist, and his lips kissed my sweaty forehead sweetly, as if he hadn't just given me the best orgasm I'd had in years.

"Wow," I said with a giggle, trying to hide my face in his muscled chest. But he wasn't having any of that. He pulled my face back to his and kissed me, my own taste all over his lips.

Despite my recent release, I wasn't done with Eric. While we kissed, my fingers attempted to undo the buttons of his plain white cotton shirt. I had to pull his hands away from me in order to remove the shirt from his shoulders. My fingers traced the hard planes of his chest, gliding over the defined muscles that had—until then—been hidden from me.

He kicked off his shoes and socks while I continued my ogling. Geez Louise. How had I not done this sooner?

Eric spun me around, so that my back was to him. He lowered the zipper of my dress. Each bare patch of skin uncovered earned a soft kiss. As soon as the dress had dropped to the floor, Eric had scooped me up in his arms and sat me down on the table. Finally, he removed my fuck me heels, leaving me completely naked.

His lips found mine again, his fingers tweaking my nipples. My hands rubbed along his shoulders, down his arms. Then moving to his collar bone, down his sternum, fingers following every bump of his ribs. Finally resting on the front of his jeans, rubbing against the erection hidden by the denim.

One of his hands encircled both of mine, stopping my teasing. With his other hand, he pulled a condom out of his back pocket and handed it to me, before unbuttoning his jeans himself.

"I'm on the pill," I told him.

"And I'm clean. But we hadn't discussed anything yet, so I figured better to be safe…"

"Someone's been planning this," I teased.

He smiled—not smirked—but, honest to goodness, smiled. "Not planning. Though I did pray to every deity that I could think of that I'd finally get to bury myself inside of you."

"Prayer works." He laughed at that, removing his boxer-briefs.

And holy shit.

I'd suspected, I'd guessed. But I didn't know how…well-endowed Eric really was. He stood with his arms akimbo while I gaped, content to let me stare.

A whole new rush of desire urged me to pull him closer. I took him in my hand, giving a few pumps, and then rolled the condom onto his length. Eric lowered me so that I was lying on the table, my hips on the edge, our lips connected as he slowly entered.

Inch by inch.

I gasped out at the fullness I felt. Eric groaned and grunted and rested his forehead against my shoulder.

He pulled out, and then thrust back in.

Patiently.

Calmly.

Once again in complete control.

Each thrust making me gasp out in pleasure. Each thrust making me squirm and beg for more.

Eric wrapped my arms around his neck, pulling me up with him so that I was sitting. He lifted me up—my legs instantly curled around his hips holding him inside me—and walked us to one of the large leather chairs. He sat down, pulling me on top of him.

I circled my hips, grinding into him. He thrust his hips up to meet mine and my head fell back. His teeth grazed my throat as we created a mesmerizing rhythm.

Our most perfect dance yet.

"This is best," he murmured, his lips against mine. "This is right."

I agreed, of course.

Eric's hand brushed against my clit, our movements getting sloppier, less controlled. I was so close. And I could tell he was too.

He growled, fingers tightening around my hips.

I licked my lips and then leaned in to kiss him one last time. My jaw went slack. My back arched into his chest. My eyes stared at Eric.

Two thrusts later, his body tensed. And then relaxed.

My lips left wet, sloppy kisses all over his shoulders and neck and jaw, while my fingers combed through his hair. He smiled at me and I started giggling again.

Oh my god.

Oh my god.

That was…

"One minute," he assured me as he, regretfully, lifted me off of him before placing me back on the chair. He padded out of the room, coming back a few seconds later sans the condom. He scooped up our clothes in one arm and lifted me with the other in a feat of strength.

He carried me out of the library and down the hall. Eric dropped our clothes into a pile by the door, but continued to carry me. Pulling back the covers, he sat me on his bed and climbed in behind me.

"Where are we?" I asked.

"The moon," he replied cheekily. Smart ass. "We're in my room. I thought that much was obvious."

"What are we doing here?" I turned on my side to face him. He threw an arm over my hips and pulled me closer.

"Snuggling." I tried to speak again, but he put his hand over my mouth. "No talking is necessary to snuggle." Unfortunately for him, he thought that'd be enough to keep me quiet and removed his hand.

I'd never met a man who took snuggling as serious as he did.

"How long are we going to do this?"

"As long as we want."

"What about Pam?" I asked. Surely she'd have to come home sometime. And Alexei. Where the heck was he?

"Who?"

"Your daughter."

He shook his head. "Never heard of her." I laughed at that, finally remembering what he had said earlier. "Don't worry, Sookie. I've taken care of everything."

I tried my best to push all of my questions and worries out of my mind and let myself relax in his hold. I rolled over so that my head was resting on his chest. His arms tightened around me. It felt so right. A few minutes later, I drifted off to sleep.

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A/N: Thoughts? Opinions?


	16. Snuggles and Salutes

A/N: Wow. Glad you all enjoyed the citrus. I know it was a long time coming (no pun intended), but it really couldn't be rushed.

Disclaimer: CH owns SVM

* * *

I woke up again at the far side of the bed, nearly toppling like Columbus at the edge of the world. The room was mostly dark, except for a lamp behind me. Ignoring all the horror movie advice I'd received over the years, I turned toward the light. Eric was sitting with his back against the headboard reading a book. Though a sheet hid his lower half, I was willing to wager my paycheck on the fact that he was still naked, except for the adorable nerdy pair of glasses he was wearing.

"You wear glasses?" I asked, my voice sounding scratchy and foreign. Eric, who'd been up to that point oblivious to my awakening, turned his head to look at me, while simultaneously whipping the glasses off. They skidded across his bedside table.

"Sometimes," he replied vaguely. I gave him a look that said "Go on." He glanced down, and, if I didn't know any better, I'd reckon that he was embarrassed. "I wear them when I'm reading. At the house. I never wear them out in public."

"You didn't wear them when you were reading at the coffee shop." He shook his head. "Why are you reading now? I thought we were snuggling."

"We were. Until you started kicking in your sleep. And stealing the covers. And rolling as far away from me as the bed would allow." His face was stoic, but his eyes blazed with amusement. "You are quite possibly the worst snuggler alive."

"Hey, that's no fair. I just don't have a lot of practice," I replied defensively. I pulled the covers with me, moving to sit against the headboard next to Eric, and scooted closer to him.

"How is that even possible? Your Gran and Jason both told me about your exes." When did he have time to talk to Gran and Jason both about my ex-boyfriends? And what had they told him? Did Gran tell him about Sam? Did Jason tell him all of his conspiracy theories about Bill?

"They weren't really cuddlers. I think Bill and I only slept in the same bed maybe three or four times in the two years we were together." And when we did sleep together, he made sure that I knew the difference between his space and my space, and the fact that they were never supposed to meld.

"What about Quinn?" He said his name as if it was a cancer.

I shook my head. "No. Definitely not," I replied. He was more of a get in, get off, get out kind of guy.

"I guess that it means it is up to me to correct the folly of those men." Eric closed his book and placed it on the bedside table, putting his glasses on top of it. He held out his arms, inviting me into his embrace. I gladly melted into him.

Eric nuzzled his face into my messy hair. Sex and sleep had done a number on my once soft waves. A small price to pay.

"What were you reading?"

He pulled his face away long enough to say, "_Paradise Lost_," before returning to my hair.

_Paradise Lost._ And _Jerusalem_. And _Das Kapital._ Geez Louise. How in the world did I manage to meet the one person alive who read these books for fun? And what are the odds that this lone being would be a single, attractive, sex-god of a man?

"You're…kind of incredible."

I felt him shrug around me. "I read at night until I'm too exhausted to see straight. I've been doing it for so long that it's just part of my routine—like brushing my teeth or setting my alarm." He kissed the top of my head. "What do you want for breakfast?"

"Isn't it the middle of the night?"

He laughed. "It's one. And I meant for tomorrow, dear one."

Dear one? That was new. Not that I objected to pet names.

"Oh, I get to stay?" I said, glancing at him from the corner of my eye. In the soft glow of the lamplight, he looked content. It's the way I felt.

"As if I'd let you leave." Eric squeezed me tighter. "And once again, you've failed to answer my original question. Though this time you've been especially evasive, ignoring it twice."

That was getting to be embarrassing. I'm sure I didn't do that with other people. Or maybe I did and they just let me get away with it. I liked that Eric didn't. "I love breakfast food. I'll eat whatever; I'm not picky."

He hmm-ed, and I yawned. Though I had just woken, my body felt heavy, my muscles achy. Eric had given me quite a workout, and I was feeling it.

"You're tired," he said, brushing my hair back. I nodded, yawning again. "You ready to try snuggling again?"

"Are you going to get mad if I continue to suck at it?" It was partly a joke and partly serious. I just wasn't used to sharing a bed, and Eric obviously loved to snuggle.

He smiled and shook his head. "We'll just have to practice until you get better." Eric slid us further into the bed, pulling me close until I was settled into the crook of his shoulder.

He brought his lips to mine for an unhurried kiss. As if there was nothing beyond kissing. As if it was an end result in itself. He pulled away, resting his forehead against mine. "Good night, dear one."

"Good night."

The next time I awoke to light peeking through the closed blinds and my arms wrapped around something soft. I was curled up in the middle of the bed, clutching the pillow as if it were a lifeline. Eric wasn't next to me. He wasn't in the room at all.

In the morning light, I finally took the time to actually look at Eric's room. I'd been there the entire night, but hadn't actually seen anything. The bed was big, long, though it had to be to accommodate someone of Eric's height. Plain white cotton sheets. They were clean and soft and smelled like laundry detergent and Eric. I was still tangled in his fluffy white comforter, and I hoped that I hadn't stolen it again during the night.

I sat up, leaning against the cushiony headboard so that I had a better view of the room. I wouldn't describe the room as minimalistic so much as just functional. His room wasn't cluttered with anything unnecessary. The bedside table and the dresser both appeared to be made by the same person who made the table in the library. The only things on the table were a book, a lamp, his glasses (which I was sort of in love with), and his smart phone.

There was nothing decorating the deep blue walls—the only splash of color in the room—except for the flat screen TV that was on the wall in front of the bed, above the dresser.

I heard the unmistakable—for me, at least—sound of a spatula against a frying pan and knew that he had to be in the kitchen. My stomach and lady parts growled at the mental image of Eric cooking me breakfast. I crawled out of bed, tensing and releasing my muscles. My thighs and calf muscles felt a little sore, but nothing a hot shower wouldn't fix.

I looked at my sad-looking red dress that lay crumpled on the floor. I didn't really want to put it back on, because that would make it feel like it was over, that I had to leave and go back to my life. That Pam and Alexei would come back. That my time with Eric had come to an end. And I was so not ready for that yet.

While looking for my panties, I pulled Eric's dress shirt from the pile and began buttoning it up my torso. By the time I remembered that he had kidnapped my boy shorts, I had already put on the long shirt. Since mine were missing, I went to Eric's dresser and pulled out a pair of his boxers, rolling them up a few times to fit me better. I hoped he wouldn't mind that I'd stolen them.

I ran quickly to the bathroom, brushing my teeth with my finger and gargling mouthwash before splashing water on my face and combing my hair.

I crept as quietly as one can in the morning toward the kitchen, following the scent of bacon that clung to the air. I stood in the kitchen doorway, my head tilted against the frame, and stared at him. His strong back was to me, shoulder blades like continents, and he flexed with each movement. The low slung denim jeans highlighted his glorious ass. And to perfect the scene, he was humming.

Though I tried to stop it, I laughed.

He glanced over his shoulder at me, not moving from in front of the stove, a wide, joyous smile greeting me. "Morning, Beautiful."

I walked toward him, slapping his ass when I was close enough, and hopped up on the counter next to him. "Good morning, Handsome." He leaned over, aiming his lips in my direction, so I leaned as well. His lips moved firmly against mine and I relished in the flavor of him, once again tasting like coffee and toothpaste.

He pulled away, I assume, because he didn't want to burn the bacon. After he had scooped up the last of the bacon onto a plate, he asked, "How do you like your eggs?"

"Over easy." He nodded and got the eggs out of the fridge, sliding around the room effortlessly. "How'd you sleep?"

Eric glanced at me, cracking an egg with one hand, and smiled. "Great. You didn't kick me once. How about you?"

"Good. Yeah." I felt better knowing that I hadn't tried to physically harm him in my sleep. Again.

When our eggs were cooked, Eric turned off the fire. He handed me the plate of bacon, so I carried it to the table. At the same time that I put the plate down, I heard someone open the front door.

"Eric?" I said. He was by my side instantly.

"What's wrong?"

But before I had a chance to respond, Alexei walked into the room. He froze for like half a second, and then his pervy teenager eyes were on me. I was suddenly very aware of my lack of proper attire. Alexei wasn't stupid; it was fairly obvious by both my clothes (which were really Eric's) and the fact that we were putting breakfast on the table that Eric and I had sex and that I'd stayed the night.

"You have nice legs." I looked down and blushed. Fuck.

"Go to bed," Eric commanded.

Alexei snorted, looking entirely too amused by this situation. "It's like ten in the morning."

He shrugged. "I don't care. Your options are go back to wherever you came from or go to your room. We're not done with our date, so go away."

Still staring at me, the younger Northman—or whatever his last name was—smiled. He'd be a nightmare to deal with from now on. I was certain of it. "It was great seeing you, Sookie. Eric." He nodded and went up the stairs.

"Sorry about that," Eric mumbled when we finally sat down to eat. I wasn't sure if he was still trying to convince me that he could cook, but everything tasted wonderfully. It was quite possibly the best bacon I'd ever tasted.

I was sitting in my "usual" seat next to Eric, my legs in his lap. One of his hands was on top of them, his thumb rubbing along my calfs.

"I have a question, but it's going to break your 'kids' rule," I said, feeling a little awkward. He gave a go ahead motion. "The…your relationship with Alexei…is it more father/son, or is it older brother/younger brother?"

I'd seen them act both ways, and I was a bit…interested in how he was going to treat me now. Would Alexei and Eric talk about the fact that we had slept together? Or would that be off limits?

"It's a bit of both." He took a drink of his milk, eyes looking apprehensive. "Why?"

"What's he going to think about this?"

"I don't care," he replied. I wasn't sure if I fully believed that.

"Maybe not, but I do."

He sighed. "Sookie, he doesn't care that you're here. In fact, he might leave me alone about you now." He laughed once. "He's been joking for the last week that he'd steal you from me, that you liked him better."

I tried to process that while I took another bite of my eggs. That made them sound more like brothers than the little power display that I had seen earlier suggested. Was I freaking out over nothing? Maybe. Did that thought help calm me down? Not really. A little bit.

I finished the rest of the meal in silence, and when I looked up Eric was already done. He was staring at me.

"What?" I asked, fearing that I had actual yolk on my face.

He shook his head. "Nothing. Do you want a shower?"

A shower. Naked Eric dripping wet. Get me a pen, because I'm ready to sign up for it. "Only if you plan on joining me."

"Of course."

He put our plates and glasses into the sink, and then returned to the table to take my hand. He pulled me close to him and kissed my neck, on hand in my hair, the other on my hip. "I know that this isn't easy for you, that I come with a lot, and if it's ever too much for you, you have to let me know." I nodded. "I like being with you, but I…"

"I like being with you too. We'll figure it out," I replied, a bout of confidence coming from somewhere. I wanted Eric. And I knew that he had Alexei and Pam before I agreed to do this. If I wanted him, I'd have to accept them as a component of him, a necessary part.

I could do that.

More than that, I wanted to do that. I wanted Eric. And so far it wasn't more than I could handle. If that changed, I'd have to reevaluate, but for the time being I was going to let myself enjoy him.

We went into his bedroom, him kicking the door closed behind us. One hand tangled in my hair, he brought his lips to mine again, and his nimble fingers began undoing the buttons of his dress shirt. Eric's lips followed his fingers, leaving a trail from my collarbone down to my navel. Once again he'd lowered himself to his knees in front of me. The sight brought back reminders of the evening before and Eric's talented tongue.

He lowered the boxers that I put on as short shorts. "Now that you're naked I realize that I forgot to tell you how wonderful you looked in my clothes." Eric tilted his head to look at me, while wrapping his arms around my waist. "But I much prefer you like this."

"I'd bet you'd like me even more if I was vacuuming," I joked.

"Vacuuming?" he asked, smirk glazed on lips. "Is that what the kids are calling it these days?"

Eric stood up, lifting me with him, and carried me to his bathroom. He let me down and turned on the shower faucet. Unlike his bedroom, which contained only the essentials, Eric's bathroom was downright fancy. Heated floors. Massive sink. Everything looked shiny and pretty. His shower was about the size of my college dorm room.

I glanced at Eric as he pulled off his jeans. "Your shower is massive."

"Is that a double entendre?"

I rolled my eyes, though I wanted to laugh. "You're hilarious this morning."

"I'm in a good mood," he replied, a thousand watt smile to back up his claim. He looked good like that.

"I hear getting laid will do that for you."

He laughed. "Perhaps. Or maybe I'm just in a good mood because I'm around you." I leaned in to kiss him, my hands on his chest. If he kept saying things like that, I was going to get all mushy.

"The water's going to get cold." He shrugged. "I want to clean up, so get your perfect ass into the shower."

"Yes, ma'am," Eric replied, mock-saluting.

* * *

A/N: This chapter was a bitch to write. I toyed with writing it from Eric's POV, but gave up on that idea. Then, Sookie was being a brat and wanted to hide under her covers depressed, so I had to talk her off the ledge. Let me know how it turned out.


	17. Hot Fudge, Hot Mess

A/N: An Eric POV, my first one since chapter 4. He's still terrifying to write, but for most of this chapter to be told it had to be from his perspective. This is for ILoveVikings.

Disclaimer: CH owns SVM.

* * *

EPOV

She was remarkable.

Beautiful. Witty. Intelligent. Selfless.

She was like a glass of ice water after running a marathon, exactly what I needed and wanted and craved. And I didn't want to let her go.

Our date had gone perfectly, even if it happened a bit differently than I had planned. All of the important nails were hit—dinner, library, and her in my bed—though they weren't quite what I had expected. Dinner went fine. I proved that I could cook, regardless of her saying that she never thought I couldn't. The subtle moans she emitted were a clear indicator that she enjoyed the meal.

Then I took her to my library, my sanctuary. Our previous house hadn't had a library, so I insisted on having an extra room for my books—my collection had become quite extensive. Alexei and Pam had both spent various amounts of time in my bedroom when they were sick or had nightmares, but the library was mine. It was truly my room. They both knew that, barring an emergency, they were not to go in or interrupt me while I was there, not that I spent too much time shut away.

I really did intend to finally have our Blake discussion that had been put off repeatedly, but there was just something about watching her walk around transfixed that tore my focus from any sort of intellectual conversation.

We were alone. I had made sure of that. Alexei was staying the night at one of his friend's house. And Dawson and Amelia had Pam. I had to call in Dawson's favor for that one. He said that if I could get him into Sookie's apartment to apologize for whatever he did to piss off his girlfriend, then he would owe me. I knew, of course, what the favor would be, since Sookie had already agreed to see me on Friday. Pam, after a long discussion, agreed to stay with them, partly because she'd be staying in Sookie's room and partly because Pam found Amelia hilarious.

We were alone. I could have stopped myself. I would have stopped myself if she had even hinted that she wasn't ready, but I saw nothing but a desire matching my own as I first tasted her and then entered her. Both were as close to religious experiences as I'd ever been.

I'd been single since Sophie Anne, but not celibate. I'd had more than a few fast food flings over the years. But not one of them could hold a torch to Sookie or the way my body reacted to hers.

Then I brought her back to my bed, into my arms. She tried to worry—something that I knew she was fond of doing—but finally let herself to relax enough to fall asleep. Not long after, she rolled onto her side pulling the comforter with her; she heeled me in the shin when I tried to retrieve the blanket, so I untucked the sheet from my side and decided to start book four of _Paradise Lost_. I couldn't really focus. I would find myself staring at her, wrapped up in a cocoon of blankets, looking like a regular fixture, a permanent display.

I needed to back up, to slow down, to get away before it was too late for me to go back. I was Adam with the forbidden fruit, a bite already down my throat because she was the one who had offered it, asked nicely and smiled.

When I awoke in the morning, we were tangled. And as much as I didn't want to leave her, I really wanted to bring her breakfast. I replaced my body with one of my pillows and climbed out of bed, pulling on my jeans as I exited the room.

I was in the kitchen frying up bacon when I felt her come up behind me. I wasn't sure how I knew that—she hadn't made a noise—but I knew it was her and I knew she was in the doorway. I ignored the pull to spin around and wrap my arms around her and continued to cook and hum.

I had never hummed before Sookie.

Alexei came in to interrupt our time together, made some comment about her legs, but had the common sense to get out before I moved from simply annoyed by his presence to angry.

She looked amazing draped in my clothes, even better naked. Better still dripping wet. Water droplets sliding down her perky breasts. Her gorgeous lips around my cock. I'll never be able to erase that memory, not that I'd ever want to.

I held her hand during the drive back to her apartment, while she stole kisses at stoplights. Our date was nearing its end and I wasn't looking forward to the goodbye kiss. I knew that we wouldn't spend every weekend like this, but I wished it was possible.

We walked up to her apartment, stopping in front of the door. Sookie brought her hand to my cheek (I hadn't shaved since Thursday morning, so I was nearing actual beard status instead of just stubble). I leaned down, kissed the tip of her nose, and put my forehead against hers.

"So, do I get a third date?" She nodded, softly knocking our heads together. "Good. You know what happens on the third date."

She blushed. "Um. We already did that."

"Wait. What are you talking about?" I asked, knowing exactly what she meant. I just couldn't resist teasing her.

Sookie backed away from me, the most adorable confused expression on her face. "What are _you_ talking about?"

"Paintball." She groaned and rolled her eyes. "No paintball?"

She shook her head. "How about I plan the next date?" I raised my eyebrow at that. Hmm. Sookie in charge of our date. That could be interesting.

"Sure. Just call me with the details." She nodded excitedly, her lips curved into a smile.

As much as I didn't want to, I kissed her goodbye. She took charge, parting my lips and slipping her tongue into my mouth. My fingers tangled in her long hair.

The door to Sookie's apartment opened, and Pam walked out, pushing her way between us. "I'm ready to go," she said without a hint of emotion.

I glanced into the apartment. Amelia was there. "She was fine last night, but she's been like that all morning. I don't know why."

Oh Christ, what now?

I nodded at her before looking back at Sookie. "We're going to go. I'll talk to you soon."

"Bye Eric. Bye Pam."

My darling daughter, who was taught better, didn't even acknowledge that Sookie had spoken. Instead, she turned and marched down the hall. I didn't know what the hell her problem was but I was hoping a nap would fix her.

She tried to get in the front seat of the car, but I stopped that. "What's the rule?" I asked.

She pouted. "Twelve."

"Or?

"Or until I can present a compelling argument for why I should be allowed."

Pam sulked in the backseat for most of the ride home, ignoring my attempts to engage her in conversation. She seemed content to be miserable, so I just let her. We were about halfway home when she finally decided to talk to me.

"Did you hook up with her?" she asked.

I sighed. "Hook up is something you do with someone you have no intention of being with. I care for Sookie. Also, I'm killing Alexei when we get home for teaching you that." I really shouldn't let him babysit her anymore. He was not a good influence.

"She stayed the night?" I nodded to signal that she had. "Is she going to do that again?"

"I hope so." I didn't like where this conversation was going. Not one bit.

I watched in the rearview mirror as she folded her arms across her chest, her eyes turning stony. This petulant attitude plus her earlier behavior let me know exactly what she was going to say next. "I don't want her to."

"Pam, we talked about this." We had. Multiple times. I had thought that she was okay with it. She had been excited to stay with Amelia and Dawson. She'd been handling me and Sookie better than I thought she would.

I was befuddled by what brought about the change.

"I don't want her to. I don't like it."

"I know it's new for you and it's going to take getting used to."

"No," she said defiantly.

I wanted to scream. And I wanted to close my eyes, but I knew that was dangerous while driving, so I settled for running my fingers through my hair. This child was going to make me go prematurely bald.

"I don't know what brought this on, and I'm sorry you feel this way, but…I'm happy with her. Have you ever seen me with anyone else? Did you ever wonder if I might be lonely?" I sighed. I hadn't even realized that I was lonely until Sookie. "Would you really try to take her away from me?"

Maybe I expected too much from her. Maybe I had overestimated Pam's ability to handle this. Or maybe I was being selfish.

She didn't talk to me the rest of the drive back. And when we got to the house, she went straight to her room, slamming the door behind her. We were going to need to talk, but both of us were too upset, so I figured we'd wait until we calmed down a little.

I started cleaning the house, first sweeping the floors and then washing the dishes. Then I started a load of laundry. I was able to shut off my brain and do the menial tasks. Saturday was usually chore day; Pam and Alexei were supposed to clean their rooms. Pam's was almost never messy. Alexei's was almost never clean.

I'd just finished calling in Sookie's flowers—I decided on sunflowers and purple aster after a peek at one of my floriographybooks—when Alexei came into the living room. After what happened in the morning, I was curious about what his approach would be. He'd teased me relentlessly about not "closing the deal" (his words) with Sookie, but I could tell by the way he spoke that he really did like her.

I shook my head. "One, stop teaching my daughter about sex. She's seven. And two, I'm not in the mood for whatever you have to say."

He slumped down on the couch, putting his feet up on the coffee table. "I'm not gonna say anything bad. I'm actually pretty impressed you could convince someone as hot as Sookie to sleep with you. I'm glad you're with her. She's cool." Lex smiled. "You've mellowed out; you're not so irritable. Is she coming over tomorrow for the Mother's Day thing?"

"Maybe you've just been less insolent lately, so I don't have to get mad. And, I don't know. You'll have to ask Pam. She's decided she doesn't want us together."

"What?" he asked, straightening up his posture. "Why? Pam loves Sookie. She won't shut up about her." I shrugged.

I really didn't get it. Something had to have happened at the apartment. Maybe it was something small that Amelia hadn't picked up on, but Pam was stubborn; she wouldn't have just changed her mind out of nowhere.

Alexei made spaghetti for dinner and we all sat down at the table, but Pam still wasn't talking to me. She'd say a few words to Lex, pass her this or that, but she was mostly silent. It had been hours, and frankly it was pissing me off. We had fought about Sookie before; it was practically a daily ritual at our house, but I always gave her an opportunity to tell her side and she listened when I told mine. This silent treatment shit wasn't going to fly.

While Pam went to take her bath, I sat in my chair in the living room, trying to read the parts of _Paradise Lost_ that I'd skimmed over the night before. But I couldn't focus. I wasn't as worried as I probably should have been about Pam's hissy fit. Sookie and I were going to be together; I'd waited around for her approval long enough. What I wanted was to figure out what brought this attitude shift on.

She crept into the room looking like a sprite, her eyes aimed in my direction. I put the book down and then held my arms out for her. She floated over to me and sat down in my lap.

"Are you going to tell me what's wrong?"

"You weren't there when I was asleep," she replied.

That didn't make any sense. "Pam, you go to bed all the time without me there. You do it three times a week."

"But you come back. I didn't like being without you. Even when we stayed at Gran's," I noticed that both she and Alexei called Sookie's grandmother Gran, "you were right upstairs. Last night I had a nightmare and you weren't there because you were with her. And you want to be away from me more, because you like Sookie more and me less."

"I'm sorry you had a nightmare. But it's not an issue of who I like more." That seemed to be her greatest worry. I tried to think of a way to describe it that made sense and came up lacking. "Love isn't like a pitcher of water with only so much to pour out; it's endless. I don't have to love you any less just because I like Sookie. I'll always love you. And, yeah, I want to spend time with her, but that doesn't mean that I don't want to spend time with you."

She nodded. "Okay."

"I'm going to keep dating Sookie. I like her."

She nodded again. "I know. I like her too."

"Come on, I'll read you a story before bed." I carried her over my shoulder to her room, pulling back the covers. I let her down on the bed and crawled in with her after I had located her favorite book. It was way below her reading level now, but it was what I had read to her at least once a week when she was little. Well, littler. She always asked for _Guess How Much I Love You_.

And like always, she looked at me expectantly when it came time for the last line. It had become a habit, a tradition, of ours. It was our hello, our goodbye, what I told her when she was mad or when I was mad, so that she knew that, despite whatever happened, that this was constant. "I love you right up to the moon—and back."

She smiled. "I love you, Dad."

I got out of her bed and tucked the covers around her, and then I kissed her forehead. "Good night, Pam."

"You didn't tell Sookie what I said, did you?" She looked worried. I shook my head and her features relaxed. "Good. Because I really don't mind you guys together if you still love me."

"Always, my child. Always."

"Good night, Eric."

I turned off her bedroom lights and went back into the living room to retrieve my book. After that, I went into my room to call Sookie. She thanked me for the flowers, and it made me wonder if she knew that I had intentionally chosen them. Our conversation was brief because she kept yawning into the phone. I didn't tell her about Pam's little breakdown because I didn't think it would do any good.

Pam would be fine. I'd perhaps been a bit lax in reassuring her that I loved her, but I wouldn't make that mistake again. I knew my dating Sookie was an adjustment for her, but she had been doing so well. I hoped that she'd continue on in that way.

I made omelets on Sunday morning because the plan was to eat ice cream for lunch and I wanted to give Alexei and Pam a decent foundation for the day. Sundaes for lunch may have made me popular, but they weren't going to win me any parenting awards. Were there parenting awards? Was it like the boy scouts?

"When is Sookie coming?" Pam asked.

Alexei smirked. "Yeah, Eric. When is Sookie _coming_?" I stared him down, but he just looked amused.

"I don't get it," Pam said, her head whipping back and forth between us.

"I told you last night to stop trying to educate my daughter."

"Ohhh, is it a dirty joke? Is that what it is?" I closed my eyes and sighed before reopening them.

I held out my hand. "Cell phone." He grunted, but handed it over.

"How long?"

"How long do you think before you learn to control your tongue around her? She's seven. There are many things she doesn't need to know about yet. This is one of them."

"I'm right here," Pam huffed. I glanced at her, letting her know that I wasn't in the mood for defiance.

"I'll stop. I promise."

"Wednesday," I sentenced.

"Wednesday?" he exclaimed, looking mortified that he'd have to go a few days without his cell phone. Maybe he'd actually learn his lesson this time and shut his mouth.

"Would you prefer Friday?"

He held up his hands, backpedaling. "Wednesday is fine."

I turned back to Pam. "Sookie said she'd be here around noon, which is," I stopped to glance at my watch, "in an hour. Have you two picked out what movies you want to watch?" I already knew that Lex had chosen _Where The Wild Things Are_; it had been his favorite book when he was younger. I read it to him all the time.

Alexei nodded, but Pam shook her head. "I haven't."

"After you finish eating go pick out something."

"How many?"

"Just one for now."

In true Pam fashion, she pulled fifteen DVDs from our collection a placed them in a line on the floor. She narrowed it down to ten, returning the others to the case. Then she got it to five. And then three. I watched from my chair as she hesitated with her pick, extending her hand and then quickly pulling it back. She read and reread the backs of the DVDs even though she had already seen all of them. She'd finally decided when the doorbell rang. Her selection, _Up_, lay forgotten on the floor as she rushed to the door.

Sookie carried several bags with her, which I reached out to help her with. She smiled at me and led me to the kitchen. We unpacked the shopping bags. She had brought bananas, caramel, hot fudge, and cherries. God, the kids were going to love her. More than they already did.

Sookie gave me a quick peck, before scooping Pam up for a big hug. "Do you want to talk before or after the movies?"

Pam looked at me. "Can we right now?" I nodded. "That's fine."

While they went to her room to talk, I went to Alexei's to play Call of Duty. He got over being pissed about his cell phone being taken by shooting me unremittingly. He was way better than me, and I was man enough to admit that. To myself. I'd never tell him because he'd become impossible.

Pam and Sookie came into the room with puffy eyes; they'd obviously been crying. I was surprised Lex had the tact to shut his mouth. I paused the game. "Who wants ice cream?" Alexei and Pam shot down the stairs like they were on fire.

Sookie slid her hand into mine. I brought it to my lips, grazing her knuckles with a kiss. "You okay?" She nodded and swallowed.

"She told me about yesterday, about what she said about us being together. She's really conflicted because she wants you to be happy, but she's afraid that everything is going to change. She said she felt better after you two talked. You're really sweet with her, by the way." She smiled weakly.

I couldn't believe how much Pam told Sookie. I mean, I guess I could understand why she might prefer talking to a woman. I just hated that I always got the condensed, edited for content version.

"Is she okay?"

"Yeah, she knows we love her and that's not going to change. How's Alexei?"

"He thinks you're hot, but accepts that you're mine."

She smiled wide. "Is that so, Mr. Northman? I'm yours?" She might not have realized it, but that was the first time she had referred to me as Mr. Northman since she learned about me changing my last name. I was beginning to wonder if she was ever going to again.

I'd taken the name less for the memory of my mother and more for my grandparents, my Grandpa Northman especially. He was a good man, and I hoped to be like him one day. He and Nana had been married for nearly fifty years happily, and he had built up his carpentry business from nothing. He'd even tried to teach me, though that resulted in a near-chopped off finger.

I nodded. "Unless you welcome Alexei's claim."

Sookie laughed at that. "I think, if I had to choose, that I'd rather be yours." She leaned in to kiss me at the same time Alexei screamed from downstairs.

"I can't say what I really want to because you'll kill me, but please get down here before Pam goes into a sugar coma from too much hot fudge."

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A/N: So, EPOV? The majority will definitely be told from Sookie's POV, but I thought I'd give another glimpse into his life and mind.


	18. Back and Forth

A/N: I come bearing another chapter to lay at your feet. Since the last chapter update, I have gotten a twitter account. The link is on my profile, so come follow me and I'll follow you and we'll have great fun. Probably. Hopefully.

Oh, and I want to thank all of the people have been pimping out this story.

Disclaimer: The wonderful CH owns SVM and not me.

* * *

Nothing that happened on Saturday—receiving a bouquet of sunflowers or talking to Eric on the phone—hinted at the underlying drama that Pam revealed on Sunday when we were in her room. I sat on her bed, while she paced back and forth, back and forth, telling me about how upset she had been.

She told me that she'd had a nightmare about her mom and that she usually ran to Eric's bed when that happened, but couldn't because he and I were together. She got mad and blamed me for depriving her of Eric. As she spoke, tears of frustration filled her Eric blue eyes.

Mine followed hers; I hated how rough this was for her.

Pam didn't have any qualms with telling me all about how pissed she was, how she even told Eric that she didn't want him dating me or staying over. I didn't know if that was because she had no one else to talk to or if she was just able to separate the me that was her friend from the me that was dating her dad.

"Last night he said that just because he liked you didn't mean that he loved me less. And I believe him. I can tell when he's lying. But everything's going to be different."

I brushed my fingers through my hair—a habit I was picking up from the Northmans—and sighed. "Some things are going to change; that's just the way life is. But your dad will always love you. And so will I. You're one of my favorite people ever."

"Am I in the top five?" she asked, and I laughed.

"Yeah."

"Top three?" She quirked her eyebrow.

"Don't push it."

Then she blurted, "I want to go to your school next year." I wasn't surprised to hear her say that. When she visited, her calculating eyes had assessed everything. It was more of a shock that it had taken this long.

"We'll talk to your dad about it."

We went to Alexei's room to find the guys playing video games. Eric and I talked for a little bit about Pam and Alexei—I didn't know what to do with that boy. He was causing heaps of embarrassment for me.

Then Eric claimed that I was his. The stubborn, independent part bucked against that. I didn't belong to anyone. I wasn't cattle or furniture. But my mushy part bitch-slapped that other part and made her understand that he didn't mean it like that. He wasn't going to brand me and handcuff me to the kitchen.

"Is that so, Mr. Northman? I'm yours?"

He smiled wide and nodded. "Unless you welcome Alexei's claim."

I laughed at that. Geez. If I was going to attach myself to a man, then he might as well be a man. "I think, if I had to choose, that I'd rather be yours." Then I leaned in to kiss him.

"I can't say what I really want to because you'll kill me, but please get down here before Pam goes into a sugar coma from too much hot fudge," Alexei yelled from downstairs interrupting us.

"Damn it," Eric muttered. "What are the odds that he'll let us have five more minutes?"

"Slim to none," I replied. I gave him a quick kiss, my hands moving from his hips to grab his ass. "Come on, a sugar coma sounds serious."

"You're cruel, woman," he whispered in my ear. My breath sputtered in my throat, and my eyes followed his back pockets as Eric strutted out of the room.

When I re-solidified from a puddle on the floor and made my way downstairs, Eric was scooping ice cream out of Pam's bowl. She had gone nuts on the thing—piled high with chocolate ice cream, hot fudge, whipped cream, caramel, M&Ms, and five maraschino cherries. Eric's face was impassive as he completed his task, but Pam stood with her hip jutted out and her arms folded, her eyes trained on every spoonful that was being taken from her.

"Can we watch movies in your room like last year?" Pam asked.

"No ice cream in my bed," he replied, putting another dollop into his bowl. "Maybe after you're done. If you can present a good argument." What? They had to argue for why they should be allowed to do something? That was weird.

"Your bed is big and has enough room for all of us," Pam replied quickly.

"And it wouldn't be awkward because Sookie's already been in your bed." Awesome. That was going to help Pam get over me and her dad having sleepovers. Eric sighed and glanced at Alexei. The boy grimaced. "Friday?"

Eric nodded once. "Yeah."

"Shit. I was doing so well."

I wanted to ask what that was all about, but Eric gave me an "I'll tell you later" look. Alexei went to a cabinet and came back with a bowl, mouthing that he was sorry. I nodded at him. Then, I started making my sundae—vanilla ice cream, whipped cream, and lots and lots of caramel. By the time mine was finished, Eric was done doing surgery on Pam's, taking half of it but leaving all the cherries for her.

We settled in the living room—Pam and I in the big chair, while Alexei and Eric sat on the couch, their feet resting on the coffee table—to watch _Where The Wild Things Are_. I hadn't seen the new movie yet, but was excited to because Jason had loved that book when he was younger. It may have been the only book he ever read.

When it was over, our bellies full of sugar and more sugar, Eric agreed that we could watch Pam's choice, _Up_, in his room. He sat in the middle, me on his left, Alexei on his right. Pam sat on his lap at the beginning, but a few minutes later ended up on her stomach at the foot of the bed, her legs moving back and forth through the air. Eric put his arm around me, letting me snuggle into his side, and kissed the top of my head.

Though I'd seen it before, I couldn't stop myself from crying. I tried to hide the fact that I got teary-eyed by burying my face in his gray t-shirt, but he didn't buy it. His long fingers stroked my hair, while I wiped the tear that trickled down my cheek. I glanced at him when I knew I was under control; he smiled reassuringly at me, the corners of his eyes crinkling just a little bit.

He was so beautiful that it made my stomach flip worse than when I went on a loop de loop rollercoaster at Six Flags in New Orleans.

I attempted subtlety, sneaking peeks at him during the movie. After catching me a few times with questioning eyes, Eric pretended that I wasn't looking, though he never did fully control the twitch of his lips.

When the credits rolled, Eric curled his arm, rolling my body toward him. He kissed the tip of my nose. And my stomach did the stupid flip thing again.

"I'm hungry, Eric," Pam said, turning around on the bed to look at us. I tried to put distance between him and I, but Eric wasn't having any of that. In fact, he even pulled me in closer.

"How on earth are you hungry?" he asked, sounding genuinely curious.

"You took away half of my sundae," she reminded him. "Please. I'm starving."

"What are you hungry for?" I asked.

"Um. Grilled cheese. Oh, and tomato soup."

Eric nodded. "Okay. You can help me make it," I said.

Pam smiled. "Eric never lets me cook."

Alexei snorted at that. "That's because at the old house you almost burnt down the kitchen trying to make Easy Mac." She shrugged.

"Who was supposed to be watching me? Oh wait, you were, but you were too busy playing on your PS3 to help me find the fire extinguisher. Gosh, Uncle Alexei, that's really irresponsible of you."

"You put it in the microwave for fifteen minutes," Alexei said, his voice getting higher as he defended himself.

Pam's face became the picture of innocence; it was the same way she looked right after she took down Bill. It was very frightening. "I'm a little kid. I don't know any better."

The entire time they were going back and forth, I worked at keeping my smile at bay. It reminded me of the way Jason and I used to bicker at each other, and Gran would have to swoop in and stop it before I kicked him in the shins or he pulled my hair. She still had to step in on occasion, especially during Christmas when we still fought over which of us got to open presents first—I voted for me because I was both younger; Jason said himself because he was "the man."

"Enough," Eric said, his voice daring someone to try and defy him. "Pam, do you promise to listen to Sookie while you're cooking?"

"Yes, sir." She saluted, and he cocked his head. "No, really. I will."

"Okay, then." He kissed me on the forehead, and then released me.

Pam's dinner was easy enough. She buttered bread while I found a can of Campbell's in the cabinet—I had to look through five before I found it because Pam had no clue where it might be—and put it on to cook. I brought in a chair from the table for her to stand on so that she could stir the soup. When it was nearly done, I put on her grilled cheese. I cut it diagonal on her plate, mostly because that's how Gran had always done it for me.

I sat at the table with her while she ate. And though she claimed that she was starving, she didn't even finish half her bowl, but that may have been because she was too busy talking.

She was in the middle of another one of her stories—this one about when she and Alexei tried to make Eric a Father's Day cake but didn't have enough sugar, so they substituted brown sugar—when the boys joined us. The younger brother looked embarrassed, but Eric chuckled.

"Best cake ever," he said.

"It really wouldn't have been so bad if we didn't burn it," Pam assured me.

"At least you hid the burnt parts under an inch of frosting." He laughed again, looking at ease slumped in his chair. "Promise me that you aren't going to make a cake again this year."

"But…but…" He shook his head. "Not even if Sookie helps? She can cook, you know? Amelia gave me some of the brownies she made. I bet she can make cake too."

I nodded.

He shook his head. "No." She tried to protest, but he silenced her and changed the topic. "Did you finish your homework for tomorrow?"

"All except the math, but I don't know why it matters. I get the honor of taking the fourth grade again next year."

Eric did not look a bit amused by that and told her to bring it to the table to do. I took Pam's bowl to the sink and cleaned it and the pots and pans I had dirtied while cooking. Alexei came in with prompting and dried everything off. I planned on leaving after that, but he offered to teach me to play Call of Duty, and, stupidly, I agreed. I mean, he was teaching Pam, so I could do it no problem, right?

The first obstacle came in Alexei trying to explain to Eric why we were going to his room. To say he looked skeptical about the boy's intentions would be an understatement.

"Are you done with your homework?"

"Yes," Alexei replied.

"Can you behave yourself?"

"Geez _Dad_. It's not a big deal. We'll leave the door open and everything."

Eric growled, and, while it was unbelievably sexy, I feared for Alexei's life. I put my hand on his chest, stepping between them. He looked down surprised, almost like I had just poofed there out of nowhere. I stood on my tiptoes and kissed him softly.

"Please, Eric," I whispered. "I really want to play."

He gulped, his eyebrows elevating.

And nodded.

Slowly.

I was doing an internal happy dance at making him react that way. Sookie still had it. That was very good to know. I filed away what I had done for future reference. I was sure I'd need to get my way again sometime in the future.

On the way up the stairs, Alexei muttered to himself something about me and Eric and magic. I ignored it and went on.

I sat on Alexei's bed as he turned on his PS3. He then sat down next to me and handed me a controller. I bounced up and down excitedly. I hadn't played video games since Jason got a Sega Genesis for his eighth birthday. That summer we played Sonic the Hedgehog until Momma would shoo us away to play outside.

That was just a few months before the accident.

"Okay. How do I shoot?" I asked.

"R1. But don't shoot yet." He thought better of his earlier decision and took the controller back from me so he could demonstrate. "Okay. This is a Tar-21. It's that assault rifle that I unlocked at level twenty. It delivers eight hundred rounds per minute and is effective up to five hundred and twenty five meters."

I stared blankly. I understood the rifle part. I knew what that was.

Alexei grimaced and ran his fingers through his hair, making it stick up. "Maybe we should play Little Big Planet. Pam really likes it."

"No," I protested. I didn't want to play a kiddie game. I wanted to shoot people and blow stuff up. "Come on. Teach me."

"Okay, fine."

He tried for the next half hour to show me how to play Call of Duty, but I sucked ass. I was awful. There was too much going on for me to figure out what to focus on. Noises and people and buildings and bullets. After the eight trillionth time being shot, I threw down the controller in protest; Alexei just laughed at me.

"You're really bad at this," he said, picking it up and playing where I left off.

"I am," I agreed. "Well, this was fun, Lex, but I'm going to go."

"Bye, Sookie. Thanks for not going off on me about the whole _bed_ comment today."

"You really should stop that. Eric takes it worse than I do."

"I can't help it. My brain lags a few seconds behind my mouth."

I patted the top of his head, smushing his hair down. "You sound just like Jason." Definitely not a good thing. "Good night, Alexei."

He waved, not taking his eyes off the screen.

I went down the stairs and found Eric and Pam sitting at the kitchen table. She was stacking all of her papers together. He was reading, wearing his adorable, nerdy glasses. Pam acknowledged me before he did.

"Hey, sweetie, I'm gonna go home."

"What? Why? I just got done with my stimulating homework." She ran around the table and held out her arms like a goalie, blocking me from getting past.

"I'm sorry, but I have work tomorrow and you have school. I'll see you this weekend. I'll take you out to lunch, just you and me." As fun as the day had been, I was still worried about how Pam was handling that she might not have her dad's undivided attention forever. I didn't want her to view me as a threat; I wasn't trying to take anything from her. Not really.

"Where?" she asked.

"Wherever you want."

She smiled. "Kick ass."

"Pam," Eric chastened, looking up from his book for the first time. "Am I going to have to take away your phone too?"

"No," she replied quickly and sighed. "Okay. Bye, Sookie." I held out my arms for her, and she squeezed around my waist. In a few years, if genetics were any indication, she'd probably be taller than me. Then again, I knew nothing about her mother; she could be tiny.

"Bye, sweetie, call me if you need anything. Anything at all." She nodded and backed away, her face emotionless.

"Go upstairs," Eric said. Pam, uncharacteristically, didn't question it and glided away. He looked at me and then realized that he was still wearing his glasses and pulled them off, much to my disappointment.

His glasses made me think of lying in bed naked with him. It reminded me of being vulnerable. And unlike my previous relationships, being vulnerable with Eric didn't make me want to run from the room screaming, because I wasn't worried that he'd take advantage of that.

Eric reached out his long arms in my direction, and I quickly made my way so that I was sitting in his lap, my cheek against the warmth of his chest. Within a minute, my breathing had synchronized with his—matching the rise and fall, rise and fall of his chest and felt his breath wafting around my neck.

I started to rethink the idea of leaving, of going back home to my lonely apartment and sleeping in my empty bed, rethinking anything that had to do with leaving his grip.

Eric tilted his head, resting his forehead on mine. His eyes were closed, so he didn't see me studying his face. His eyelashes brushed the tops of his cheeks. His clean shaven jaw was once again sprouting stubble. The line of his nose. His strong cheekbones. The relaxed way his lips rested together.

He took a deep breath, his eyes flickering open. His lips kissed my nose.

My cheek.

My forehead.

My jaw.

Each kiss soft, lingering. His warm lips caressed my skin, leaving me shuddering and breathless. I brought my hands to his face, directing him to where I wanted him. Eric kissed my top lip. Then my bottom lip.

Our lips moved together as he pulled me up so that I was closer to him, my chest against his, my arms pinned between the back of his neck and the chair. He nipped at my bottom lip, making use of my gasp to slip his tongue into my mouth.

We heard footsteps at the same time.

Eric pulled back, putting his forehead on mine, and spoke, "If you're not bleeding or on fire, go back upstairs." He huffed out several unsteady breaths.

It seemed that the footsteps were retreating, but then they suddenly stopped. "Alexei is being an immature egomaniac with no foresight of how his actions affect others," Pam said. There was a second of silence. "Is Sookie still here?"

"Yes," he replied.

"Oh. Okay." Eric pulled back and moved one hand from my hip to brush through his hair. "Good night Sookie."

"Good night Pam," I said. Pam giggled as the sound of her steps faded. I put my hand on his cheek and gave him a quick kiss. "I should go. You have your children to tend to."

He nodded and for a second I thought that he was going to ask me to stay—and, honestly, I wanted him to; I wanted the excuse to sleep next to him, but didn't want to ask him for the privilege—but he didn't. And the longer I sat in his lap, the harder it was going to be for me to leave. I stood up and put some distance between us.

"I'll walk you to your car."

He held my hand in both of his and we walked outside. The sun was setting, spreading streaks of red and orange across the otherwise dark blue horizon. The breeze still carried an edge of coolness, but I knew that within a month it would carry the sting of warmth. I couldn't wait to lay out at Gran's house absorbing the sun; my skin was far too pale for my liking.

"I think it went well."

"It did," I agreed.

Overall, I would have to call the day a success. There had been some slippery moments—my talk with Pam being the main one—but everything went okay. Yes, Alexei made comments but they were no worse than any others that he had made, and I could tell he didn't mean it rudely.

"When do I get to see you again?"

We stopped at the driver's side door. "What about dinner on Thursday?" I still needed to come up with something to do since I was the one in charge of it. But I had no idea what to do. It was our third "date," though the number didn't really mean anything to me.

"I can do that," he replied, leaning in to kiss me one last time. "Drive safe."

"I will. Good night."

He stayed outside, watching me as I unlocked the car door, turned on everything—the car, the music: My Morning Jacket this time—and drove away. I peeked out the rearview mirror and watched him fade with each inch I put between us. I sighed so loudly and so often that it distracted me from the music.

I needed to talk to Amelia or Gran or someone. It was too soon to be sighing wistfully at the thought of being apart from him. It was too soon to be playing house with him. It was too soon to be planning on taking the Northmans to Bon Temps for the Stackhouse Fourth of July extravaganza. It was too soon to be this attached to him. Way too soon.

Right?

I needed to talk to Amelia.

I found Bill standing outside my apartment door, looking like he was writing a note. Geez. I'd had such a good day. How'd he know that I needed him to ruin that for me?

"What are you doing here?"

Bill turned to look at me, a wide grin on his face. "Sookie, just who I came to see."

"Well, obviously. Amelia thinks you're a pasty douche bag so I didn't figure you were here to see her."

His smile didn't falter. "Can I come in?"

"No," I replied. "Why are you here?"

"I left something of mine here that I want back." Really? He had always made a big deal about keeping our crap separate. He didn't leave anything at my apartment and I definitely didn't leave anything at his. I had thought that it was just a compulsive habit, a need to be tidy.

"What?"

"My mother's necklace."

I snorted. He could have that gaudy piece of jewelry back. "I'll go get it for you."

I unlocked the door and went inside, closing the behind me. I even thought about locking the deadbolt, but didn't because I figured it was better just to get this over with. I ran to my room, found the necklace he had given me for our one year anniversary, and ran back to him.

He was leaning against the open doorframe when I came back. Damn it. I should have locked the door. I handed him the necklace.

"Bye Bill."

He smirked. "Is there anything of yours you want back?"

No, I didn't want any of the presents I had given him back. I wanted nothing to do with him. I wanted him to leave me alone and let me live my life.

"No." I tried to shut the door again and he finally moved out of the way.

"Bye Sookie." The way he said it made my skin crawl. I slammed the door, locking up tight.

* * *

A/N: The song I have in mind that Sookie is listening to on her drive home is "Librarian" by My Morning Jacket. If you haven't heard it, it's wonderful. I'm going to post the link on my profile. Also, let me know what you think of the chapter.


	19. Unsafe Safe

A/N: I was going to stop about halfway through but that seemed cruel.

Disclaimer: The lovely CH owns SVM.

* * *

On Monday, Eric called me fishing for more details on our upcoming third date. I played coy, told him that he'd just have to wait and see. But I had no idea what I was doing. I needed to come up with something—not even something awesome, just…something. Anything. How did guys do this? It was so much pressure.

I mean, what if he didn't like the food at the restaurant? Or the movie we saw? What if he thought my idea of what constituted a fun date was lame?

I'd never planned a date before, and I was not enjoying it one lick. I was tempted to just tell Eric to take me to go play paintball. At least then I wouldn't be so damn nervous about pleasing him. I mean, seriously, I wasn't this nervous to have sex with him or meet Alexei or have any of the awkward conversations that I had with Pam.

I didn't sleep well that night, felt like something was off. But I chalked it up to just worrying about the date.

Tuesday rolled around and I was still out of ideas, though I was growing fonder of putting a suggestion box in the lobby for appropriate places to take a guy on a date. I was torn from my growing mountain of indecision by a phone call from Gran. She called to tell me that she was back from her tour of Civil War battle sites and to tell me how much she enjoyed herself. Then, she got on the topic of Eric.

"How's that fella of yours?"

"He's fine. We have our third date on Thursday."

She seemed surprised by that. "Only your third?"

I found myself nodding, even though she couldn't see me. "Yes, ma'am. He doesn't count anything we do with the kids as a date." I said 'the kids' again. And had mixed reactions about it. "Gran, do you think it was weird that I spent Mother's Day with a single dad and his kids?"

She laughed. "Do you think it's weird that it's weird that I spent Mother's Day with a bunch of friends looking at places where soldiers died?" When I didn't answer, her mood shifted. I'm not sure how I could tell over the phone, but I could imagine just what it looked like. "Why are you asking, sweetie? Because you want to know? Or because other people took issue with it?"

"I don't know."

But I kind of did. Amelia thought it was weird. She flat out told me that she felt that way. And she wasn't the only one. At lunch on Monday I was talking to some of the teachers and they found it weird that I would go to the house of a guy I was dating to celebrate Mother's Day with them. I hadn't thought anything of it, because we weren't really doing anything special for the holiday.

"Don't give me that," she replied. I could just imagine her standing in the kitchen with her hand on her hip.

"Yeah, some people questioned it." I sighed and sat down on the living room couch, taking my heels off. It had been another long day doing inventory of the library in preparation for the end of school, and I for one would be ecstatic when it was over.

"Screw what other people think. It sounds snippety, but you can't please everyone. If you and Eric don't care then…it doesn't matter."

I smiled to myself; she knew what to say to make me chill out. "Thanks, Gran."

"How are you two doing? You seemed happy with him when you came to visit."

"Yeah," I said. It was almost surprising to me that I hadn't realized how happy I was. "Yeah, we're good. There are tense moments, of course. He's just…He's so much more mature about it than me, but I guess he has to be. It's not just about him—it's the kids too." Again with the kids.

"Well, they both adore you, dear. Alexei and Pam both spoke very highly of you. But have you considered what it would be like if you broke up with Eric?" I had always managed to push that thought from my head whenever it sprouted. "Or if you two stayed together? Have you really thought about everything that Eric brings to the table? I'm not saying this to be nasty, Sookie. I just don't want to see you or them hurt."

I stayed quiet, trying to sort through my thoughts. Yes, I'd thought about it. All of it. I hoped that if that happened, that if we broke up, Eric would still let me see Pam. And even Alexei; I was growing fond of him and his inappropriate comments. But if Eric and I stayed together…if we ever got to the point of living together, I'd be the one moving into his home.

And if, years down the road, or whenever, by some chance Eric wanted to marry me, I'd be a stepmom. That had never been a part of my childhood fantasies, had never even really considered it as a possibility when I was younger. Stepmom.

But it was too soon to think about that.

"I have, Gran. Eric hasn't shown me anything about him that I'm not prepared to handle, or try to handle. I like him. I like being with him. I like his kids. And the way he treats me. I…" I sighed.

"Okay, dear."

After that, she went back to being my sweet Gran and didn't bring up Eric one more time, much to my relief.

At three that night (or morning or whatever) I woke up slick and sweaty from dreaming about his impressive library. And, no, that wasn't a double entendre. Though _that_ was certainly impressive too.

But in the quiet of my room, lit only by the lamp on my desk, something was itching at my brain. I still couldn't place what was wrong. Something Bill had said kept replaying over and over: "Is there anything of yours you want back?"

I'd brushed it off at the time, but maybe there was something I wanted back. The presents I'd given him weren't useful to me—ties, golf crap, a few books—and I couldn't think of what it might be. But the nagging feeling wouldn't go away.

Wednesday morning, I found a note on the kitchen table from Amelia saying that we needed to go shopping together—it was her and Tray's one year anniversary of the first time they had sex or something, and that called for lingerie and three nights of fucking. She must have put the note in there when she came home after I went to sleep, because Ames very rarely woke before I did.

I was actually pretty excited about going shopping, even though Amelia took the rules of _Mean Girls_ a little too seriously and actually needed my opinion on every piece of clothing before she bought it. Her need for my approval meant that shopping took forever and a day, but I could use some girl time, look at frills and lace (or in Ames' case leather and latex), and maybe get a few drinks.

Wednesday I had two kids come and tell me that they lost their library books. The first was one of the sweetest, quietest third graders that I knew. He came in for a new book every few days and I had to convince him that it would all work out okay so he'd stop crying. And then, right after that, this horrible mouthy fifth grader came in to tell me that she lost hers. Her book had been late for at least three months, and she got a bit of attitude when I didn't have much sympathy for her.

By the time I got home from work, I was in dire need of some stress relief. I went straight to my room and took off my work clothes and changed into jeans and a t-shirt. I traded my heels for my Chucks. Amelia came in a few minutes later.

"Hey, roomie, ready to go?"

"Yep yep."

We went to her favorite boutique downtown. She'd dragged me there enough times that I didn't even flinch at the leaning tower of dildos by the door or the row of whips along the back wall. Before long, she had an armful of leather corsets and pieces of string that she called a playsuit.

"You going to get anything for Mr. Sexy?" And then she made it a point of holding up crotchless panties.

"Well, I'm not getting those."

Not my style. But I could buy something cute for our date. And since Amelia was going to be gone with Tray in la la land, we'd have the apartment to ourselves. Ooh. Alone with Eric. I could make him dinner like he had for me, we could finally have the discussion on Blake because I still had all my books highlighted and marked with notes, and then maybe, if we were feeling it, we'd end up in bed. Perfect. Lingerie was definitely called for.

"Go find you something then, before I try to seduce him."

"You have Tray," I reminded her, finding a white lace corset with matching panties that I liked.

"That would look great with your skin tone," she said. "And, yeah, I do. But don't pretend like you've never fantasized. Your Mr. Sexy is gorgeous. I'm so jealous of you."

Amelia walked out of the building with five different outfits, while I had one. Amelia insisted that I buy the white corset because, and I quote, "It makes your boobs look absolutely incredible." And with a review like that, how could I not buy it? Even if it was crazy expensive.

We were both hungry, so I took her to Cunningham's. It was their three dollar burger night, so it was packed, but I insisted that it was well worth the wait. We finally got in, drank a little raspberry beer, and laughed while waiting for our food. It was just as good as I remembered it.

Tray was picking her up at 8:30 because he only had to work the day shift—how he managed to convince his boss to have three nights in a row off was beyond me, but I suppose he had been a bit more cheerful since the bartender firings—so we sped back to the apartment. Amelia learned how to drive from watching NASCAR. Or from action flicks. We made it back to the apartment in plenty of time for her to finish packing up her bag, freshen up, and even to pretend to be bored when Tray arrived.

I called Eric to tell him to meet me at my apartment at seven on Thursday and to dress comfortably. I wasn't going to make a big to-do about our date. I wanted it to be intimate, cozy. He didn't pry for more information, but I could tell he was curious.

I woke up twice that night, feeling like I was being watched. I slept with the light on. And squeezed my eyelids tight. I needed to figure out what was wrong.

Thursday was busy. I overslept a half hour, so I was out the door without any makeup or coffee. I had three more kids show up with sob stories about missing library books. When I was locking up I discovered that one of the kindergarten teachers let her class finger paint on the tables, but didn't bother cleaning them up, so I had to stay late and do it myself.

Traffic was a nightmare. There had been a wreck, so I didn't move more than a few inches for nearly forty-five minutes. The line at the supermarket was ridiculous, stretching nearly to the back. I mean, how hard was it to get more than one cashier to the front to check people out? Apparently, it was pretty fucking difficult.

It was six thirty by the time I got out of the store, and I knew that the food wouldn't even be close to being done by the time Eric showed up, but I hoped he wouldn't mind. Eric had always been really chill about everything.

I was walking down the hall at the apartment complex when I pulled my keys out of my purse. And I froze. It all hit me at once. Memories from a year and a half before, memories that had been playing at the edge of my mind.

He had a key.

"Son of a whore."

How had I forgotten that? I had given Bill a key to the apartment for our six month anniversary, but he'd never used it. Not once. He kept our space separate. Preferred it that way. But he had never given it back.

My throat felt like it was tightening up. I couldn't breathe. I couldn't speak.

He had a key.

I slumped down in the hall way a good fifteen feet from my door, my grocery bags and purse surrounding me like sandbags against the intruding world.

He had a fucking key.

I heard footsteps and curled myself into a ball, fearing the worst. He knelt down in front of me, taking my face in his hands. He made me meet his eyes.

"Sookie?'

I threw my arms around his neck and pulled him tight to me.

"Sookie, what's wrong?" His voice was wary, concerned.

"Bill has a key to my apartment," I said quietly.

He stood up quickly—my grip on him was so tight—and pulled me with him. "Is he here now?"

I shook my head. And then stopped. "No. I don't know. I haven't been inside, but I don't think so. I just remembered. I can't believe I didn't remember that."

Eric forced me away from him. "Give me your keys." I placed them in his waiting hand. He unlocked the door, and went inside. I watched from the hallway as he checked every room, every closet, every shadowed corner of the apartment, and then returned to me.

"Call your super or your landlord or whoever, and tell them that you need your locks changed." His tone left no room for argument, so I pulled out my cell and called. Andre said that he wouldn't be able to do it until at least tomorrow and then gave me a lecture on how making keys was not allowed. Eric stood there the entire time, staring at me, his arms guarding his chest. I felt like I was being scolded twice.

I hung up and told him what the landlord had said, and his posture straightened up even more, making him look downright intimidating.

"Pack a bag."

"Eric, I can't just—"

He interrupted me. "You're not staying here tonight. Get your ass inside and pack a fucking bag. I will throw you over my shoulder and carry you out of here kicking and screaming if I have to. You are not staying here if he has a fucking key."

I'd never heard him raise his voice like that and definitely not at me. Tears pricked at the corners of my eyes as I walked past him and into the apartment. Shit. I'd made a mess of things. I found an overnight bag and moved as quickly as I could, grabbing clothes for work and pajamas and shoes and underwear. I went into the bathroom, gathering up my makeup and tooth brush and deodorant and face wash.

When I emerged from my bedroom, I found him in the kitchen putting my forgotten groceries away. He glanced up at me, his face empty, blank, void. Eric took the bag from me, slinging it onto his shoulder, and led me out of the apartment, locking it up behind us. He held my hand tightly in both of his.

"Drive your car to the house. I'll follow behind you." I didn't waste more than a second on him calling his home 'the house,' instead choosing to focus on how cold he was acting. I fucked up. I got that, but him acting distant and disappointed wasn't helping.

I needed him to hug me and kiss me and say everything would be okay. Yelling orders at me…I hated that. I hated that he was being like this.

I was a wreck as I drove. I was pissed at Bill for being a complete psycho about our break up and purposely not giving the key back, going far enough to even taunt me about it. I was pissed at Eric for being so mean. I was pissed at myself for being so stupid. Bill was way past just being a douche bag. I was going to need to do something about his escalating creepiness.

It's not safe to cry and drive, but I managed to make it to the gate of Eric's neighborhood without hitting anything or anyone. I signed in without trouble, because the guard on duty recognized me, despite the puffy eyes and horribly disheveled appearance. I saw Eric talking to the guard at the gate, so I stopped and waited for him.

When we parked in the driveway, Eric opened my door before I even turned off my car. He reached in to unbutton my seatbelt, but I slapped his hands away. I wasn't helpless. Jesus, I could get out of a car by myself. I got out and tried to walk away, but he imprisoned me against the driver's side door, his strong arms on either side of me.

"I'm sorry," he said, his voice quiet. Low. I looked down at my shoes, the stupid black heels that I hadn't gotten a chance to change out of.

"It's fine." I wiped my eyes. "Let's go inside."

Alexei was sitting on the couch drinking a Heineken. Eric walked in and took it from him. The boy didn't even have a chance to try and hide it. He looked at us curiously, clearly confused about why we were there. Then his eyes focused on my bag in Eric's hands, and he opened his mouth to speak. Before he could, Eric silenced him.

"Alexei Nikolas, not a word. In fact, don't even think too loudly." He left the room with the bottle.

I sat down next to Alexei on the couch, feeling…worn. He turned to face me, taking in my full appearance. "What's wrong?"

"Bill has a key to my apartment."

I expected him to cuss or be upset, but it looked like he was having an epiphany, a moment of clarity. "Oh."

"Oh?_ Oh?_" What the fuck did he mean? Oh?

"That's why Eric's acting like that—breaking out the middle name, not even mentioning the underage drinking. Did he cuss a lot and get really angry?" I nodded. How did he know that? What did that mean? I stared at him, hoping he'd get that he couldn't just leave it at that. Alexei looked behind him nervously. "He's scared."

What? There was no way Eric Northman was scared. He didn't look like he could be afraid of anything. Ever. He was always in control and in charge. Lex was wrong.

He wandered back into the living room. "We're going to go get food. Don't tell Pam anything yet. We'll explain it to her later. And we'll discuss your drinking tonight."

Eric practically lifted me off the couch and carried me to my car. For some reason, we weren't taking his. He put me in the passenger seat and walked around to the driver's side. He had to push the chair way back and raise the steering wheel, but he finally got everything adjusted.

He played with my iPod, settling on some The Hush Sound. We pulled up into Dixie Dog and ordered at the drive-in. He got a chili dog and tots; I got a southern dip-dog and fried pickles.

"Are you okay?" he asked, taking my hand while we waited.

I shrugged. "Are you?"

"Yes. Now." He turned his head, his cheek resting on the headrest. "Tomorrow we're going to talk to my lawyer about what it will take to get a restraining order against Bill. He's no longer simply a nuisance."

I couldn't even argue about him being high-handed. He was right. Bill was starting to scare me.

"Okay. I have work, so I won't be able to until tomorrow evening." I agreed to meet him at Glasir around five with his lawyer, the one who had gotten the restraining order against Sophie Anne. "What are we going to tell Pam?"

My question was put on hold because we got our food. Eric pulled into a parking spot where we could watch headlights race past. I handed him his food from the bag and got mine out too. I popped a fried pickle in my mouth and instantly spit it back into my hands because it was so hot. I dropped it back in the container and stole one of Eric's tator tots, which were thankfully cooler. He quirked an eyebrow and took one of my pickles.

"We can tell her whatever you like. If you want to tell her about Bill, we can. If you want to tell her you're staying the night without giving a reason, that's fine. It's up to you."

"We'll play it by ear." I had no idea how she'd handle this.

We ate together—I kept taking his tots and he kept stealing my fried pickles—and I was almost able to forget everything else and just enjoy Eric. He told me about his day, about how he and Tray did inventory. I told him about mine, finally told him what I'd had planned for our date. He laughed again about our thwarted attempt to discuss Blake; it was seriously never going to happen.

When we got back to the house (the house, the driveway, the kids), Pam and Alexei were sitting on the couch watching Futurama. She didn't look as surprised to see us as Lex had, and I got the feeling that despite Eric's order, he'd told her.

"Pam, we have—" Eric said.

"Can it wait until commercial?" she asked, turning her eyes back to Bender's antics. Eric sat in his chair and pulled me down into his lap, resting his chin on my shoulder, arms wrapped around my tummy.

When the commercial break rolled around, Pam turned to look at us. "She's staying the night. I know."

"Alexei," Eric growled.

"It wasn't him. I saw her bag."

"What were you doing in my room?"

"I…I…"

"Yeah, that's what I thought." He sighed. "Bring me your PS3."

"Damn it." Alexei stood up, running his fingers through his hair. He came back a minute later with the console and placed it on the coffee table. Then he slumped back down on the couch.

We watched TV until it was Pam's bedtime. Eric got up to put her into bed, and Alexei stretched out on the couch on his stomach. He put his chin on the armrest and stared at me.

"Are you mad at me too?" I shook my head. "Good. She watched Eric put your bag in his room and came and asked me about it. She can tell when I'm lying."

I shrugged. "We were going to tell her anyway. That I don't care about. Why were you drinking?"

"Boredom." I rolled my eyes. Really? Pam was in the house with him and he was supposed to be watching her. "How long do you think he'll take my PS3 away?"

"Well, you decided to be an idiot on a bad night, so don't expect it for a while." He sighed and rolled over onto his back to watch TV.

Eric came back into the room. "She wants to say good night to you."

I went to Pam's room where she was tucked into her bed. She held out her arms, so I hugged her. "I'm sorry that Bill's such a dumbass," she whispered so that Eric, who was waiting in the doorway, couldn't hear her.

I smiled at her. "Me too. Are you okay with this?"

She shrugged. "It's not your fault about Bill. Or Eric. He's impossible when he's worried." Maybe she and Alexei were right.

"Good night, sweetie. Sleep tight."

"You're going to be here in the morning?" I nodded. "That's going to be weird."

"Maybe. Or maybe it'll be awesome." We'd both just have to wait and see how it turned out. I was praying to on high that it wouldn't be awkward, but I knew it was going to be something different for all of us.

"Good night, Sookie."

Eric put his arm around my shoulders and took me to his room. "What time do you usually wake up in the morning?"

"Six thirty-ish. When do you?"

He sat down on his bed, taking off his shoes. "About the same time. I'm going to take a shower and then go to bed. Join me?" I couldn't tell if he meant it as an order or a question.

"To which?"

"Both," he replied as he pulled off his t-shirt. I sat down beside him and took off my heels finally, my feet orgasming from the pleasure of being freed from their confines. I stood, shimmying out of my gray dress slacks before pulling off my black top.

Eric was still seated on the bed, his eyes sweeping my body, and I was thankful that despite my lateness I'd taken the time to put on my matching undergarments, even if it wasn't my new lingerie.

I reached out for his hand, and with very little coercing I'd managed to lead him to the bathroom. My eyes staring into his, I unbuttoned his jeans, unzipped them, and crouched as I pulled them down. He helped me by stepping out of them one foot at a time.

I kissed him lightly on the lips, and he pulled back to turn on the water. When the temperature was to his liking, we got in and he reached for his body wash. His hands lathered it up and then began to rub the suds into my skin, starting with my shoulders. It smelled like pepper and pine; it smelled almost like Eric.

Along my arms.

Fingers lightly tracing the swells of my breasts.

Across my stomach.

Then he turned me around, my back to him, and massaged the lather into my tense muscles. His touches weren't asking or demanding anything more. When he'd traced my spine up and down, he followed the curve of my ass to my thighs. Down my legs. Even washing my feet.

And then he rinsed me off slowly.

I took his body wash and returned the favor for him, though it was, at times, difficult to reach his shoulders and upper back, so he hunched down for me. I took the opportunity to kiss the nape of his neck. He didn't even flinch at the contact.

After that we took turns shampooing each other. He was gentle, tender, almost as if he was afraid I was going to break or bolt. When we finished rinsing out, Eric turned off the water and got us both towels. He left the bathroom briefly, returning with my bag. He kissed me on the forehead and left me to change.

I pulled on my pajama shorts and tank top, brushed my teeth, and stole his comb to brush my hair. I wrung as much of the excess water from my hair into the towel as I could and placed the sopping thing over the towel rack.

Eric was already in the bed when I came in. He lifted the covers for me, so, after I put my bag in the corner, I climbed in next to him, my back against his chest. His arm tightened across my hips; I doubted I'd be able to wiggle even a centimeter.

"You're safe," he murmured into my hair. It was so quiet that I wasn't sure if I was supposed to hear it.

"Are you mad at me?"

"Not at _you_." He sighed. "Sookie, do you even realize how badly this could have ended? What if he'd been there tonight and you'd gone in? He's had it the entire time. If he'd ever wanted to…and there's nothing I could have done. If he had…Sookie, you have to be more careful. I don't…I don't want anything to happen to you."

I'd been avoiding thinking about Bill and the key and if my feelings of being watched at night had been real or just paranoia. I focused on the feeling of security I got being in his bed.

I joined my hand with his underneath the covers. "Aren't you going to read?"

"No. I think I can forgo that tonight. I'm fine where I am." He snuggled in more, slightly relaxing his grip on me, but keeping his fingers intertwined with mine.

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A/N: I don't know if anyone cares, but, random fact, the chapter title comes from the song Unsafe Safe by The Hush Sound. Let me know what you think of the chapter.


	20. French Toast Spanish Class

A/N: I haven't posted anything at 3AM in a while. I forgot what this felt like. I want to thank dazed-rose for giving me motivation in the form of pretty pictures of ASkars. And to xjamieee who kept me company on Twitter until the very last sentence was written.

Disclaimer: CH owns SVM

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I didn't know what time it was—my phone was on Eric's bedside table, charging right next to his; plus, I'd been lying there deliriously over-thinking every millisecond from the day Bill and I were re-introduced to the moment he'd shown up on Sunday wanting his mother's necklace back—when the bedroom door inched open, barely moving a centimeter each time. And then she stuck her head in, just enough light seeping in from the hall for me to see her. She caught my eye and darted to turn back around.

"What's wrong, sweetie?" My voice sounded extra-loud in the still silence.

"I had to check and make sure it was a dream. I wasn't sure." She crept closer, her feet softly padding against the floors. "Can I sleep here?" I nodded and she climbed in, curling up next to me. At the same time, Eric nuzzled into my hair. What was it with this family and snuggling?

"Are you okay?" I asked her. I was pretty sure that Eric was at least half-awake, but he stayed quiet.

"I had a dream Bill took you. And Eric became a tyrant." She paused. "Lex said that he was acting the same way today as when my mom tried to take me—bossy and angry and terrifying."

"Yeah," I said honestly. Part of me appreciated how take charge he'd been about everything; he was meticulous and thorough and like he'd prepared for the situation. And the other part of me was a little pissed about how he'd acted. It's not that I wanted to be coddled, but it was scary to me how quickly he became that other person, as if he'd flipped a switch and became a drill sergeant.

I could have taken care of myself; I did it all the time. But I allowed myself to fall apart, knowing that Eric would be there to take care of me, trusting that he'd take care of me. And then I got mad about how he'd done it.

"He means well," she defended, back-tracking. She was so protective of him. They were all so protective of one another. "Sometimes he comes across like a tyrant, but he's really not. He just hates when he can't control what's happening, so he pretends that he can."

"That's very astute for someone your age."

Pam smirked. "I have an IQ of 143."

I laughed. "So you've said."

"That means I'm a genius."

I rolled my eyes. "Just because I don't have an IQ of 143 doesn't mean that I don't know that you're a genius. And a bit of an egotist too."

She chuckled at that. "I thrive on positive reinforcement."

"I bet you'd still thrive with a swift kick in the rear."

Pam looked down and then back at me. "Gran said that she used to give you and Jason spankings or swats or whatever." I nodded, pretty sure that I already knew where this was headed. Of course he didn't. "Eric doesn't for us. Alexei says it is because their dad used to hit them."

I didn't know how to respond to that. Or even why she was bringing it up. "From what I've seen, you're pretty well behaved."

"Well, duh. But Lex isn't, and dad still doesn't for him either."

"Why are you telling me this, sweetie?" I asked.

She huffed, like she was upset I wasn't making the connection that was so obvious to her. "Because Alexei says sometimes when kids are hit by their parents, that when they grow up they hit their kids. But, even though Dad gets mad sometimes, he never does with us."

"I never thought that he did." Never. Hadn't even occurred to me. He was always so affectionate, so gentle. With Pam especially.

"Good," she replied. "Good night, Sookie."

And, with that, she was just done talking to me. She'd said what she needed to. And that was it. Pam curled onto her side facing me. Her eyes closed, her breathing evened out, and within a few minutes she was asleep.

Eric sighed quietly, signaling that he was indeed awake, his arm slack around my hips. "I don't enjoy you being scared of me," he said, his whisper sounding heavy, thought out. Obviously, he'd spent the night thinking too.

"I didn't enjoy being yelled at," I replied.

He sighed again, louder this time. "I don't enjoy imagining all the things that he could have done to you if he'd had even the slightest desire to do so. But I can't stop. Every time I close my eyes I see it." I put a lid on that mental box before it had a chance to go Pandora on my ass.

"I know you were trying to help, and I appreciate it, honestly, but I was already upset. And I just…" I trailed off, my voice starting to fail me, my control starting to fail.

I felt his kiss even through the mess that was my hair. "I'm sorry I scared you. That wasn't my intention. I was so focused on getting you away…I didn't even realize until…I hate that I made you cry. Can you forgive me?"

His voice was low, not entirely controlled. Bubbling like sweet tea brewing on the stove. I swallowed the lump in my throat, thankful that he couldn't see the tears that were threatening to reform. I didn't doubt him, not even a tiny little bit. His apology was earnest, nothing like the plastic "sorry" and bouquet of red roses that Bill used for every time I was pissed at him.

"Yeah," I said quietly, thankful that I kept my voice in control.

His chest heaved with a deep breath, and, when the air had been dispelled from his lungs, I felt okay again. Right. Protected. "Sleep well, dear one. Only a few more hours until we are supposed to get up."

"How do you know that?" He hadn't let go of me long enough to look at his phone.

"I have a very accurate internal clock," he mumbled, already sounding half-gone.

He, like his daughter, only took a few a few minutes to fall asleep. But I stayed awake. Still thinking, though these thoughts were more pleasant—mostly a greatest hits of my moments with Eric. After a while, I tried to match the rise and fall of his chest, synchronizing my breathing with his. It must have worked because the next thing I knew, Eric was brushing my hair to one side and kissing my shoulder. Infinitely better than any alarm clock.

"It's 6:30, dear one. I'm going to make breakfast. What do you want?"

"Coffee," I groaned and he laughed.

"Of course. Anything else?"

"Whatever you're making." He laughed again. "Pam's still asleep, but don't worry about waking her. She should be up soon."

I squeezed my eyes shut for another second after he rolled out of bed, before following his lead. I went to the bathroom first, stopping to get my bag from the corner. I brushed my teeth and washed my face and attempted to do something with my hair. I shouldn't have slept on it wet. It was sticking up every which way, so I pulled it into a low bun at the nape of my neck.

I should have hung up my work clothes, but I had forgotten. Thankfully, they weren't too wrinkled. I pulled on slacks and a pink top. I was so proud that I was able to pick out matching clothes and had the foresight to pack pants since I didn't pack a razor to shave my legs. I put on a little bit of makeup—blush, mascara, nude lipstick—and was basically ready to go.

When I walked back into the bedroom, Eric was slipping on a green shirt, giving me a look at his abdomen. His very lickable abs. He coughed quietly, and I finally stopped wishing I had x-ray vision and met his amused eyes.

"There's French toast in the kitchen, if you're hungry." It felt so domestic. I loved that he could cook. Loved it.

I brought my hand to the stubble on his cheek and stood on my tiptoes to kiss him. "Thank you, Mr. Northman."

He smiled wide and kissed me again. "I'm going to shave. I'll be out in a minute."

I stood in the room trying to decide whether or not to put on my heels yet. I decided against it because I was going to be running around the library all day, which was a guarantee that my feet were going to hate me. There was a brief moment of trepidation that passed through me when I put my hand on the doorknob to leave the safety of his room and dive into the craziness.

Alexei and Pam were at their seats at the table, and I could feel them watching me as I went to the cabinets looking for a coffee mug.

"Behind you," Alexei said, saving me the embarrassment of looking through another cabinet without finding them.

"Thanks," I said. I located it a few seconds later and poured me a cup of coffee. It tasted like heaven. The plates were on the counter, thank god, next to a stack of French toast. I put two pieces on a plate and carried everything to the table.

As I sat down, Pam reached for the syrup, but Lex beat her to it, pouring slowly purposely, teasing her. Basically acting like an annoying older brother. She folded her arms over her chest and pouted. When Alexei was done, he sat it next to him, far out of her reach. Now he was just being a dick.

"Pass the syrup."

He smiled. "Ask nicely."

She turned to me and huffed. "Sookie, tell him to pass me the syrup."

Alexei kept smiling. We both knew that I had absolutely no authority here. This was their home. I could tell him to pass the syrup until I turned blue, but I had no way to enforce it. I couldn't punish him for being a jerk. Or not listening to me. Stay silent or try to act like I was in charge?

I glanced at Pam and she was smiling too. Another fucking test. And it wasn't just Pam this time.

"Why do you do that? I thought we were friends."

She smirked. "We are. It's like a science experiment."

And it was like I was back in eighth grade biology when we went to the creek to find bugs to pin. Only this time I was the helpless field cricket that everyone was staring at. It wasn't a good feeling.

I frowned.

"Damn, Sookie, we didn't mean anything by it. We just wanted to see how you'd react," Lex said. "Not well obviously."

I took a deep breath; I was the adult in this situation. I couldn't sit around pouting because they thought it would be fun to mess with me. "You want to know how I'd react?" He nodded. "Stop being a jerk and pass Pam the syrup. You know better than to act like that."

He handed it to her without complaint. And smirked at me.

"Can we watch a movie tonight?" Pam asked, handing the syrup to me when she was done with it.

"I don't know if I'll be here." Hopefully Andre would be done changing the locks and Eric's lawyer would be able to get a restraining order, which would mean that I was safe and could go home.

Both of them laughed at that.

They were still laughing like I was freaking Conan O'Brien when Eric came into the kitchen. I didn't get it. Wasn't that funny. If at all.

"What are we laughing at," he said, sitting down in his chair.

"Sookie is being unintentionally hilarious." Pam smiled. "Can we watch a movie tonight?"

He glanced at me, as if I had any answers. "I don't know. I'll let you know when I get a better understanding of what today's going to be like." Pam and Alexei exchanged a look, like they knew something we didn't. And they probably did. Those two seemed devious together. I'd thought it was endearing at first. Wasn't so sure how I felt when it was aimed in my direction.

"Can Sookie drive us to school?"

"Why?" he asked. Neither of them responded, just smiled wide, which didn't help their case any. He shook his head once. Pam protested. "Give me one solid reason for why I should even consider it."

"You don't even have to go into work until this afternoon. And it's on the way to Sookie's school. There you go. Two reasons." His face gave nothing away as he listened and weighed it in his mind. I didn't care. If he didn't have to get out, there was no point in him wasting gas.

"Sookie?"

"It's fine with me, if it is with you." Eric nodded his assent and Pam clapped her hands. I didn't know if I should be happy or worried about her reaction.

"What do you have left to do this morning?" He looked back and forth between them.

"Can you look over my rough draft?" Alexei asked. "I was going to have you do it last night, but…yeah."

"Yes. Put it on the coffee table and I'll read it before you leave. Pam?"

She swallowed the bite that was in her mouth before speaking. She counted off items on her fingers. "Brush my teeth again. Put on my hideous—but in dress code—shoes. And can you braid my hair?"

He braided her hair? That was so cute.

"Let's do that first thing after you're done eating."

I sat quietly during their exchange, eating my French toast, which was incredible. It was like weekday mornings with Gran when I was younger. It was like being a family. My mornings were usually spent running around in my apartment, sometimes eating breakfast, but always alone. Even though Ames lived with me, our mornings hardly ever overlapped. I was gone by the time she was awake.

I'd forgotten what it felt like.

I liked it.

I could get used to it.

And that scared me.

After I was done eating, I went back to Eric's room and made sure that my bag was all ready. I unpacked and refolded everything; I even went back through the bathroom to make sure I hadn't left my mascara or something on his counter. When I was satisfied, I zipped up the bag, put it on my shoulder, and slid on my heels.

Pam and Eric were sitting in his chair, and he was putting a ponytail holder at the bottom of her braided hair. I sat down on the couch and watched them. And my girly parts were pointing flashing arrow signs in his direction. He was great with Pam and Alexei, but I had the insane and almost overwhelming desire to see him cradling a little sleeping baby in his arms.

He had good genes. He made pretty kids.

Damn it. Stop it, Sookie. Stop thinking this way. He'd run for the hills if he heard what you were thinking. Stop.

"What?" Eric said, breaking me from my internal berating, his eyebrow quirked. "You're giving me a complex."

"You had the same look Alexei gets when he's on his laptop, but won't let me see what he's watching." Oh geez. I didn't even want to know.

"Sorry. I guess. I dazed out for a minute." Thinking about how gorgeous our children and Pam's potential siblings would be. Damn it, brain. Quit.

"Go finish getting ready." Pam hopped off his lap, giving me a devious smirk as she walked past. Oh, yes, this would be brought up again. "Are you sure you're okay?"

"Yeah. Yes. I promise I'll be more alert when I'm driving."

Eric seemed to be trying to pull my thoughts from my head, but when that didn't work, he pointed to the coffee table. "Can you hand me Lex's paper?"

I sat on the couch reading e-mails on my phone while everyone else went about their morning. Alexei was done before Pam, and he came to sit next to me. He told me a little bit about his paper—it was about how the modern American foreign policy compared to that of British imperialism during the Victorian Period.

He came up with the topic himself.

I knew that he claimed to be a genius and to be graduating early, but that was my first time really seeing it. Most of the time, he just seemed like any other pain in the ass teenager. It was nice to see that side of him, that spark underneath the stupid behavior I'd seen.

Pam came into the living room only after Eric yelled for her. She remarked that she had been ready to go for a long time and was just reading in her room. I knew she hated her uniform, but she looked so cute in it with her shiny shoes.

Eric stood and we all followed suit, and we met him at the door. Alexei was first. "Please—"

"I know. I know. Listen to Sookie. Watch out for Pam. Don't correct the teachers. Anything else?"

"Yes, please don't be a smartass." He smiled at him. And then it was Pam's turn. He picked her up in a hug, kissed the top of her head, and whispered whatever it was he whispered into her ear. Then he let her down to earth again.

"I love you, Dad." It was the first time I'd ever heard her say it to him. It was obvious she did; half the time it seemed like she worshipped him. But she I'd never hear her say those exact words. He smiled and patted the top of her head.

Then it was my turn.

Would he kiss me? Hug me? High five? Would he use what was apparently his new pet name for me? What would he say?

All of my questions flashed in my mind in the millisecond before Eric hugged me. "I'll pick them up from school, so you don't need to worry about that. And we're meeting Bobby at Glasir at five."

"I remember," I told him.

"And if Bill does anything, calls or shows up—"

I put my hand on his cheek. "I know. I'll be fine."

He put his forehead on mine and took a deep breath. "If you need me, just call. Any reason."

"Were you this anxious to send Pam to her first day of school?" I teased. "Say it with me, 'I'm a leaf on the wind.'"

"Oh, he was much worse than this. There were tears," she replied for him. "We're going to be late, Eric. Wrap it up."

He didn't react to her at all. "Have a good day, dear one." And he gave me a quick peck.

"Bye, Eric."

The drive to Caddo Prep was relaxed. Alexei sat in the front seat and played with my iPod, though he annoyed Pam by only listening to half of each song. I thought I was going to have to take it from it and put on my Torture playlist—it was just Aqua's "Barbie Girl" over and over again—but he finally stopped. Alexei directed me to where to drop them off, and hugged me goodbye. Not to be outdone, Pam leaned into the front seat and gave me a hug too, telling me that she'd see my later.

Where her confidence in that statement came from, I had no idea.

My day was busy, which was probably for the best because it kept my mind off of Bill or lawyers or keys or even Eric. Monday was the last day for turning in books, so I prepared for the rush from all the early birds. On top of that, I had one of the Spanish classes come in to use the computers since the lab was being used. As if third graders weren't bad enough in English, I had to listen to them butcher the Spanish language. And their teacher was suffering from burn out, so she didn't even try to keep them quiet.

I ate lunch in the cafeteria. Gross as usual. But it kept me from passing out from low blood sugar, so there was that.

The second half of the day was much of the same. Lots of kids came in with books that needed to be checked in. I spent a good half hour after the final bell rang putting all the books back on the shelves. It was a good thing that I didn't have to pick up Alexei and Pam because I would have been very late.

I was just happy that I'd make it to Glasir on time.

Eric was in his office when I got there, staring down another man. I was just about to turn around and leave him to whatever was going on, when Eric ordered me to sit down. Ordered. I couldn't believe he was doing that again, so I stayed where I was. I was being a bit of a brat, but he needed to know that I didn't respond well to his behavior. It took him a few seconds before he realized that I wasn't complying.

He stared at me. "Sookie."

"I'm not your child, Eric. You don't get to tell me what to do." He closed his eyes and sighed before opening them again.

"Would you please come in so that I can inform you about what Bobby has told me?"

"Sure." I took a seat next to the other man—Bobby, I presumed.

"He doesn't think that we'll be able to get a protective order against Bill, because he hasn't done enough. He thinks that we should just wait around for him to try something else." Oh. That explained why Mr. Tyrant had come out to play. Eric glared at Bobby like he was the one causing all of this mess.

Okay, no protective order. That sucked ass. I'd kinda been counting on that.

"Would there be any harm in me trying to get my key back from him?" I didn't know what to do. Bill hadn't always been like this. Surely there was some way to talk sense into him.

Bobby turned in his chair to look at me. "Eric said you already had your locks changed."

"Yeah." I nodded. "If I can't get a protective order or whatever, then maybe I should try talking to him once more, trying to get him to back off for good. But if that would go against us in the long run, then we'll just let him keep being creepy."

Bobby looked at Eric, who was still pissy, and then back to me. "Calling him for the key is acceptable." He told me that if I did I should meet Bill in a public place and that I needed to remain calm, to not let him bait me into making threats or revealing too much to him.

When Bobby left, Eric sat pouting at his desk. He was taking it much worse than I was. The locks were being changed, and, since talking to Andre, Bill was put on a watch list at the apartment building. If Bill didn't back off after one last talk, then he'd no doubt do something that would give reason for the protective order—continued harassment or a threat or something. It sucked that we couldn't get it yet, but I had to believe that I would be fine until we did. I wouldn't allow myself to think otherwise.

I'd freak smooth out if I thought otherwise.

"How is it that you're the calm one?" he muttered.

I shrugged. "One of us has to be."

He was quiet for a few minutes as he got himself back under control. "Have you talked to your landlord today?"

"I haven't had the time."

"Can you?" He sighed. "I'd like to know that something is being done to ensure your safety." He muttered something quietly, but I didn't catch it.

I called Andre. He told me that he'd changed them and that I could pick my key up in his office. Eric only seemed marginally more upbeat after I told him that news. And, even though I knew that he typically worked on Friday's, he followed me back to the building. And to Andre's office. And to the apartment.

He once again went through each room, for signs of an intruder. I didn't want to tell him that Bill wouldn't have left anything, that there were barely traces of him at his own apartment. He sat on my bed—it was the first time he'd been in my room, well, with me in there. I started to unpack, throwing my dirty clothes into the hamper.

"If I ask you something, will you seriously consider it instead of just blow it off?" I nodded. "Stay with me tonight."

His eyes bore into mine.

"I can't stay forever, you know." Not that I didn't want to stay awhile. "Yes, I feel safe when I'm with you, but this is my home. And I need to be able to feel safe again here too. I won't let him take that from me." I was not going to let Bill Compton scare me away. This was my apartment, my bed, my life before he came into it, and it was going to be mine now that he was gone.

"I know," he replied, running his fingers through his hair. "Just tonight. I'm not going to be able to sleep when you stay here again, and I'd like one more night of decent sleep. Please indulge me."

His eyes held a glimmer of hope and I knew I couldn't be the one to squash that; I could always be stronger on my own later, but right then I wanted pretend for one more day that Eric and I could take on the world if we were together. "One night."

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A/N: I was kind of sad that no one caught my Serenity reference in the last chapter, but it was subtle so I guess I can understand. Tell me what you think.


	21. My Head Keeps Spinning

A/N: Last chapter I passed the 500 mark on reviews. Thank you all so much for that. A lot of love for all the girls on Twitter for their encouragement and especially to my dear one xjamieee.

Disclaimer: Not mine, not mine.

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Eric greeted me at my car door, opening it for me and taking the bag from my grip. One night. I'd told him and myself one night, and I was going to stick to that. Probably. "I've been meaning to ask you if you would be free to accompany me to a restaurant opening on Thursday. I have a stake in the business, and Barry asked me to show since I've been pretty useless lately. Plus, he wants to meet you."

I'd wondered about where Eric had gotten his money, especially from what I knew about his past, but I'd never asked. It wasn't polite to ask people about financial stuff, at least not so soon after the first date; Gran had taught me that. But he'd brought it up, which made it fair game. Right? "Do you have stakes in a lot of businesses?" I wasn't sure what the proper lingo was.

He nodded. "Some. There are a few I manage, like Glasir, but most of my involvement is merely financial, investments and start-up capital. You never answered my question."

"What day did you say?"

"Thursday," he answered.

I smiled, realizing what else happened on Thursday. "That's the last day of school."

"All the more reason to celebrate." He was right. I loved my job. I loved my kids. But I was so excited about the school year coming to a close. It had been a long year. Eric looked at me curiously, expectantly, which confused me to no end.

"What?" I asked, feeling my forehead wrinkle.

"You hate it when I tell you to do things, but when I ask you, you never answer me."

Damn it. I thought I was doing better with that. "I'd love to. Thank you for inviting me. How formal is it?"

He smiled and shook his head, his eyes lighting up. "Not at all. It's this crazy rooftop Mexican restaurant. Well, the opening is on the rooftop. Live music. Lots of tequila. Maybe even some dancing. I was planning on just wearing normal clothes." It was impossible not to get excited about going because Eric seemed so proud of it.

It was infectious. "I've missed your smile," I blurted without thinking. I hadn't seen it in a while, since Sunday. And that felt like years ago.

His smile transformed into a smirk.

Eric placed his hands on my hips, pulling me close, while his nose skimmed down my neck. He softly kissed my pulse point. "I've missed being inside of you." I'd missed that too. Dreams didn't do him justice. And as much as I loved how sweet he had been in the shower, memories of our first shower together played in my mind.

"Me too," I replied quietly, putting my hands on either side of his face, angling him so I had better access to his lips.

His kiss was hungry.

Passionate.

Demanding.

Completely unlike the sweet pecks that he'd been giving me. I liked them. I liked both. Just in very different ways.

One made my stomach flip.

The other made my ovaries growl.

His long fingers rested against the nape of my neck, pulling me closer. My hands clasped together around neck. Using my grip and his free hand, Eric lifted me off the ground, my back resting against my closed car door, my legs around his waist. His body was closer. But still not close enough.

He sucked gently on my bottom lip before slipping his tongue in my mouth. My skin was tingling. Alert. I wiggled my hips, both of us moaning at the friction. Eric pushed his hips into mine again.

"Will you two stop dry humping? Kira's going to be here soon, and no one should have to see that."

Eric put his forehead against mine, but made no move to let me down. "Her parents will be there?" he asked.

"Yes. And I'll be home at midnight. And I'll leave my cell phone on."

"And, please, for the love of god—"

He groaned. "I know, Eric. I'm not stupid. If…" Alexei stopped and looked at me, still wrapped around Eric, just listening to their conversation like this was totally normal and not happening in the driveway where all the neighbors could see. Geez Louise. Gran would whip me if she knew what Eric and I had done. Then again, she'd been pretty accepting about everything lately, so she might just end up asking if Eric was well hung. "If that happens, if we do, I will. Trust me. You've demonstrated the importance of that very well. No one wants another Pam running around."

Were they talking about what I thought they were talking about? As Jason would say, 'Wrap it before you tap it.'

"Who's Kira?" I asked. Did he have a girlfriend? How did I not know about her?

"She's a friend." I looked at Eric, who was laughing quietly, and then back to Alexei. "Don't give me that look, Sookie. She is."

"I believe you." Alexei ran his fingers through his hair. It was so much fun to make fun of him.

"She's seventeen," Eric said, quirking his eyebrow and smiling wide.

"Geez. You can get a seventeen-year-old. That's impressive," I teased. "Then again, maybe being spectacular at sex is genetic." I never thought I'd be able to get such a reaction out of him and it was a lot of fun. Eric encouraging me wasn't helping any.

Alexei looked horrified.

"Shit. I don't want to hear that. Just please go inside." He was begging. Begging. So I took pity on him and loosened my legs from around Eric, so that I slid to the ground. He picked up my bag—I didn't know how long it had been resting on the pavement—and took my hand, kissing it sweetly.

"Midnight," Eric said as we started walking away, and Lex nodded.

Pam didn't even comment on my return to the house or Eric's skipping out on work, though I suppose he could have called them to let them know on the drive back. While Eric made spaghetti—he insisted on doing it himself—Pam and I swayed to Dean Martin. It took a while to convince her to dance with me, but she finally surrendered, spinning and letting me dip her. During "Ain't That a Kick in the Head," she tried to dip me. Didn't work out that well. Eric found us on the floor giggling and singing when he came to tell us dinner was done.

The spaghetti was amazing, like I'd come to expect from him.

Instead of a movie, we played Life after dinner. It was fun, though Eric killed us both—he had a car full of kids and a good, high paying job, though he did have to deal with a few fallen trees and flash floods. He still came out way ahead of where I was.

When it came time for Pam to go to bed, she surprised us both by asking if I would be the one to tuck her in. He looked briefly hurt, but quickly masked it and agreed. Pam gave him a hug.

"I love you right up to the moon," she said. Aw.

He kissed the top of her head. "I love you right up to the moon—and back." And my heart melted. That was the most adorable thing I'd ever heard, like bordering on impossibly sweet—chocolate dipped sugar cubes or something.

My girly parts were once again pointing at Eric. Huge floodlight-sized flashing lights. And tornado sirens going off in my brain. All saying, "He's right in front of you. He's fucking spectacular. Pick him. Pick him." Even my heart and brain got in on the action. Every part in agreement—they all wanted Mr. Northman.

Pam tugged on my hand, and I followed her to her room. I looked at her book collection—some of my favorites from childhood graced her shelves—while she brushed her teeth and hair and changed into a night gown.

When she was done, she patted the bed, so I snuggled in next to her (I was getting better). "Are we still going to lunch on Sunday?"

"Yep," I said. There was no point in changing that; I'd promised Pam, and I actually kind of missed getting to hear about her week. Her calls to me had been tapering off. I didn't know if she was busy or if she just hadn't needed me as much.

"And I still get to choose?" I nodded and she smiled. For a second. And then it was gone, replaced instead with a look that I hadn't seen from her in a while—cautious but curious. "Do you love me?"

My head jerked to look at her. I was sure I'd told her before. But it was strange to hear her ask. "Yeah, sweetie. I do. You're wonderful. And I'm glad that we're friends."

"Do you love Eric?" I coughed. Oh shit. I should have seen that coming.

"Pam, I don't…We haven't been dating that long. It's…too soon." My attempts to verbalize came out minced.

"But you've known Eric and I the same amount of time. How can you love me, but it's too soon to love him?"

I took a deep breath, the initial shock finally wearing off. I was able to think clearly again. "There are lots of different kinds of love, Pam. How you love your dad. And how he loves you. If you're asking if I love Eric in the same way that I love you—as a friend that I care about—then yes, I do. But I'm not positive if that's what you're asking me."

"No." She propped herself up on her elbow. "I know you kiss him; I have to bleach my eyes every time I see it. And you slept in the same bed as him. And, when he's not looking, you glance at him and smile. It's like all of those girly movies that play on TV. All that's left is the 'I love you' and the happily ever after." Only Pam could say that and sound completely cynical about the whole thing.

I couldn't figure out if she wanted me to be in love with Eric or not. It's possible she was confused as I was on that front.

I could see myself loving him some day.

Maybe eventually, but I wasn't there yet. It was too soon. I didn't. I couldn't.

I took a deep breath trying to erase those thoughts.

"I think he loves you."

"Pam," I said, trying to stop her. I couldn't think about this right now. I had too much other shit going on to add more stuff to obsess over into the mix,

"That's what I think," she said, ignoring me. "And I think you love him too. And I don't know what that means for any of us, but…it's what I think. So be mad or upset. I don't care. It's my opinion."

"I'm not mad." I'm not sure what I was, but it couldn't be classified as mad. I was a jumble of emotions, mostly anxiety wrapped up in more anxiety. "I disagree with you. But would it really be so bad if I loved Eric or if he loved me?"

I had to figure out where her head was in all of this. It had taken her weeks just to be okay with us dating. And then, she'd just had that fit about us together. Was everything moving too quickly for her? Was she really okay with everything? Was that what she was getting at?

"No. That's not it at all. That's not what I meant at all." She huffed and turned so that she was flat on her back, her blue eyes staring up at the ceiling.

"Make the connection for me." She got frustrated with me quite frequently for not being able to follow her down the rabbit hole, but this time I really needed her to spell it out. Guessing her intentions wouldn't work here. If she wasn't okay, I needed to know. Even if it hurt me. Or Eric.

"I love you, Sookie."

Oh.

That was new.

"I love you too," I replied, still uncertain about where this was headed. "But?"

"No but. I could do a lot worse."

"What do you mean?"

She sighed. "Eric could be dating a bitch."

"Language," I corrected her, while silently wondering how well that would go over. I'd made it a point of trying not to 'parent' her. "If he doesn't let you say dumbass, I doubt he lets you say bitch."

Pam smiled unrepentantly. "Sorry. It's true though. Or someone who was allergic to fun. Or hated children. Someone who thought Cosmo was literature. I could do _a lot_ worse."

She tended to be prickly, especially with new things, but Pam had moments of vulnerability that reminded me that she really was a little girl. And she could sweet. I'd seen that in her when she was with Eric. I was surprised it was aimed even a bit in my direction.

"Good night, sweetie." I hugged her and she squeezed back.

"Good night, Sookie. Will you be here when I wake up?" I nodded. "Okay. I'll see you tomorrow morning."

After I left her room, I took a minute in the hallway to get my shit together. She was fine. I was fine. There was nothing to worry over.

I'd deal with everything she brought up later.

The first thing I needed to do was call Bill to get my key back. Even though the locks were changed. It needed to be done. Although I'd broken up with him forever ago, I never really felt like it was a clean break. He'd always been kind of lingering around the edges. I prayed that he'd finally…just stop. Maybe that was asking too much of him.

I decided to call before I chickened out, so I sneaked off to Eric's bathroom. It went to voicemail. I told him to meet me at Voodoo Coffee at noon on Saturday—I wanted to get it over with—with my key. And not to call me.

Eric was sitting in the living room on the couch when I found him. My heart started pounding the second I saw him. I straddled his lap, sitting as close to his knees as I could without teetering toward the coffee table. I told him about the message I left for Bill. And he told me that he wanted to be there—huge shocker. I agreed to let him accompany me if he let me do the talking and didn't punch anyone.

He nodded his agreement.

"How are you doing with all of this?" I asked. He'd been pretty mellow all evening, like he'd actually listened to what I'd said in bed.

Eric raised his eyebrow. "How am _I_? I'm concerned about you going back to your apartment tomorrow. And I'm trying not to wonder about what he's going to do that will finally allow us to get a protective order against him. Because I have no doubt that he'll try something." He sighed, arms wrapping around my hips and dragging me closer. "And I'm happy that you're here with me."

He tucked a strand of hair that had fallen behind my ear and let his fingers trail down my neck. I shivered against the soft touch.

"How is Pam?" he asked. And I knew Eric must have been really upset for him to bring it up while I was in his lap. "She always wants me to tuck her in. Even on the nights when I'm at work, she won't let Alexei do it; she does it herself."

"She's fine. She just needed to talk to me." About how she thinks we love each other.

"Any chance you'll let me in on what you talked about?" He put on this adorable face, big puppy dog eyes and just a hint of a smile, and I almost caved. If it had been something serious, I would have. For this, though, I didn't want to lose her trust.

"If she hasn't already discussed this with you, I'm sure she will soon."

"That's it? That's all you're going to give me?" he asked, and I nodded. "Maybe a genre or topic so that I'll know when it happens."

"Me and you," I replied. And his eyes got shifty, avoiding mine.

"Oh."

Oh. As if to say, 'Oh, we've already talked about that.' Or 'oh, I know exactly what she said to you.' But, you know, without really saying anything.

"Yeah."

"Oh. That. I didn't know that she told you about all of her theories." He spoke tentatively, carefully. And still glanced over my shoulder, as if the blank television screen was the most fascinating thing ever.

"Some of them. You really can't blame her though. She doesn't have anything to compare this, us, to; it's so new to her."

He was quiet for a long time. Staring off into space. So far away.

"Hey," I said quietly, rocking my hips against his. Eric finally met my eye again, those beautiful blues. "Let's go to bed." We were as alone as we were going to get. And I wanted to pick up where we'd left off earlier.

"Are you tired?" I shook my head, and his eyes lit up with recognition. He stood and carried me to his room, locking the door behind us. I hadn't even known his room had a lock.

He placed me in the center of his bed and carefully loosened my bun, freeing my hair to splay against the pillow. It probably looked a mess. He smiled at me, his eyes having a silent conversation. No words, but the intensity made my breath catch. "I dream about you being here. Like this. Quite frequently."

"Good dreams?" I asked, before meeting his lips.

"Amazing," his words muffled. His lips moving against mine.

My fingers raced to the hem of his green shirt, pulling him away just long enough to remove it. "I'm always in your bed?" I asked, tracing the lines of his muscles.

He mumbled something as he left open-mouthed kisses down my throat.

"What?" His hands inched up my top—my stomach, along my ribs, briefly cupping the curves of my breasts before removing the shirt completely. Then my bra. He brought his lips back to mine, still not answering, his thumbs circling my nipples.

I arched into him.

His tongue battled with mine. My heart raced. And my entire body craved more.

Eric started kissing his way down my body.

My throat.

Licking along my collar bone.

The warmth of his breath sending shivers through me. Nipping at my nipples teasingly. I gasped out, his name on my lips.

I pulled his face back to mine, our lips moving together, our heavy breaths combining. My hands trailed down to the front of his jeans, rubbing him through the denim. Eric hissed into my lips.

"Sometimes, in my dreams, you're in my bed. Mostly though, I just fuck you on any available surface," he finally answered, his voice low, ragged. "Then I wake up and you're not here."

"I'll be here when you wake up tomorrow," I replied, unbuttoning his jeans and pulling them down. No boxers. Just that beautiful gracious plenty awaiting me. He helped me by kicking them off. And then he pulled off my slacks and panties.

Eric leaned back and sat on his heels, staring at my bare body laid out in front of him like an offering to the gods. His eyes swept up and down my form, as if trying to memorize me.

I interrupted his ogling by taking his cock in my hand and stroking him. He closed his eyes, a growl caught in his throat. "Sookie."

"Lay back."

I scrambled to my knees and got him to lie down. Straddling his thighs, I took the tip of his cock in my mouth, swirling my tongue around. I licked along the underside of his shaft, celebrating each moan and gasp. My lips surrounded him and I took as much of him in my mouth as I could, stroking the rest. Up and down. In and out. Suck and stroke.

Eric leaned up to tuck some loose waves behind my ear.

And then his hips were thrusting, pushing him deeper. I hollowed my cheeks and relaxed my jaw as much as I could. He groaned, thrusting a few more times.

"Stop," he said, attempting to get himself under control. "I want to be inside of you when I come."

His voice was breathy, his eyes half-lidded and glazed over with lust. I released him slowly, kissing his tip. Eric grabbed me quickly, pushing me against the mattress, and brought his lips to mine again briefly. He pulled away long enough to grab a condom from his bedside table and roll it on—we really needed to have a conversation about protection, like a real conversation instead of throwing out random information during coitus.

Eric pushed into me slowly. Torturously slow. And pulled out at the same rate. Slow. Deep. Punctuating with a kiss each time he pushed back in. Again and again.

I could feel him in my stomach. In my fingertips. Every part focused on our thrusts and the way our bodies felt coming together.

"Eric, please," I whimpered, wiggling against him. He pulled out, reached over to his side of the bed, and grabbed a pillow, sliding it under my hips.

His thrust back in was quicker, the change of angle allowing him to go deeper. I wrapped a leg around his hips, rising up to meet each thrust. He brought his thumb to my clit and began to rub circles.

My entire body was flushed with a layer of sweat. My heart was racing. And each breath was mixed with a moan.

His name became a prayer. And a plea.

As I rose higher and higher. The pleasure building.

Until it was too much and I fell apart, crying out incoherently.

I cradled Eric's face in shaky hands as he continued to thrust. His eyes met mine. His jaw relaxed, dropping open, as he said my name. His body tensed and released.

He collapsed on me, leaving sloppy kisses on my chest. "Fuck."

"Yeah. I agree." Eric smiled against my skin.

"I'll be right back, dear one." I watched his ass as he went to the bathroom and came back a few seconds later with a wash cloth. He cleaned me up, and threw the wash cloth into the hamper.

He came back to bed and pulled me close so that were on our sides facing each other, a lazy smile on his lips, kissing me once more. It was one of those mind-numbingly sweet ones, but still managed to have passion behind it.

It was the kind of kiss that almost had me believing Pam's theories.

I shut down that thought and another one popped up.

I was going to go back to my bed. Sleep in my room. Alone.

It was the most unappealing thought to have, especially while I was kissing him. Holding him. Feeling protected in his arms.

When had my own bed become so unlikeable? After spending about two minutes in his.

"Where are you?" he asked.

"Huh?"

"You look like your brain is running a mile a minute. I was just wondering where you ended up." Eric linked our hands, his lips caressing mine with a kiss.

"I don't want to think about it," I replied. "Let's talk about something else." Anything else. I wasn't going to be able to enjoy the rest of my time with Eric if my mind was wandering.

"Pam wants to go to your school next year," he replied.

"She told me. How do you feel about that?" I snuggled closer to him.

"She seems excited about it, which she never was about Caddo, though that may just be because she doesn't have to wear a uniform. I know I'd feel better with you close, but I don't want to put that kind of pressure on you. If it would be weird for you…"

"It wouldn't. I love Pam, and I might actually feel better with her close. I have no objections to it, but, ultimately, it's your decision." I'd thought a lot about it since she'd brought it up. I couldn't think of a serious reason why she couldn't at least try my school.

He pulled me closer, resting his chin on the top of my head. "Will you let me know when enrollment is?"

I kissed his chest. "Of course." I sighed against his skin, my eyes feeling heavy.

"Tired, dear one?" he asked.

"Why do you call me that?" I blurted out; I blame the lack of sleep from the past week for my missing brain-to-mouth filter. Luckily, he didn't think I was being rude. He just smiled.

"Would you prefer another name? Honey? Or lover? Or babe?"

I groaned. "Quinn used to call me babe. But, then again, he called every girl within fifteen feet of him babe." He never had a name just for me. I'd never wanted one before.

I yawned, my breath colliding with his chest. He felt so solid. So real. Present. Stable. His fingers brushed through my hair. "Sleep," he said quietly.

I snuggled in close to him. "Good night, dear one." I tried out his name on him.

He chuckled quietly. "Good night."

* * *

A/N: Thoughts? Opinions?


	22. My Girls

A/N: Another chapter from Eric's POV since most of you seem to like those.

Disclaimer: CH owns SVM.

* * *

Her phone was playing some absurd high-pitched ringtone, so I answered it. Maybe not the smartest decision given that I didn't know who was calling, and also because I was still half-asleep.

"What?"

A few seconds of silence. "Eric?" And then she giggled. Damn it. Amelia. "I see that Sookie's been busy while I was away."

"It's eight in the morning. On a Saturday. You better have a damn good reason for calling."

Sookie stirred next to me. Though she had stolen the comforter—again—during the night, she must have gotten warm because she had thrown it off and was only barely covered by the sheet. Her bare breasts rising and falling with each rhythmic breath. Her long hair spread out across her pillow. She was so captivating that I had forgotten I was on the phone until Amelia spoke again.

"I do. I'm at the apartment, but my key isn't working. Did Sookie kick me out without me knowing?"

"No," I said, sitting up in bed so that my back was against the headboard. "We've been having some issues with Bill. He had a key and has been harassing Sookie, so we are trying to get a protective order against him."

"Oh my god. He was just here."

Motherfucker.

"Clarify."

"When I got to our floor, he was walking toward me, like he was leaving. He didn't say anything to me, but I warned him again about showing up at the apartment." That meant he probably knew that she had changed the locks.

"Again?" Please be saying what I think you're saying.

"I've caught him outside our apartment a few times when I came home."

"Do you know dates or times?" I could feel my mood brightening.

"Not all of them. But I remember a few. I can write them down if you want."

And then I felt jubilant. Victorious. "I could kiss you."

"Well, well, Mr. Sexy. I don't think Tray or Sookie would like that too much." I was so happy that I burst out laughing. Thank god. Holy hell.

"I'm going to need you to talk to my lawyer about when and how often you've seen Bill at your apartment. You're going to need to go on record; can you do that?" Amelia might just be enough to get the order without having to wait for him to do more shit. I still didn't want her to go to her apartment, but I knew she would be stubborn about that.

"Yeah, of course. Whatever you need," she replied. "Now, how am I supposed to get into the apartment?" Sookie had taken both of their keys, sure that she would beat Amelia back to the apartment.

"Is Dawson with you?" She said that he was. "Have him drive you to my house. I'll even make us all breakfast or something. Is he driving his truck?"

"Yes. And see you soon."

I called the front gate about Dawson coming to visit, so that he could come through without any problems. Then I reluctantly slid out of bed and found shorts and a t-shirt to wear. After I was done in the bathroom, I went to the kitchen to see what we had to eat. Thankfully, I had gone to the store recently.

I preheated the oven and started pulling out ingredients from the fridge and cabinets. Eggs. Sausage. Pancake mix. Milk. Biscuits. I turned the fire on under my skillet, and started mixing and placing and breaking and pouring.

I didn't even realize that I was humming again until I started dancing too. God. How could she do that to me? I was happy. I was fucking over the moon. It wasn't just that Bill would be a distant memory soon. I didn't give a fuck about Bill. It was her. It was waking up with her next to me and knowing that my pillows were going to smell like her shampoo. It was the way she always smiled when I leaned in to kiss her. It was the way her skin slid against mine. And the feeling in the pit of my stomach I got whenever we were together.

I hated to even consider the possibility that Pam could be right, but I hadn't felt like this in a long time, if ever. Something was happening. And if it wasn't love, then it was probably the stomach flu.

I wasn't sure which I would choose either given the opportunity.

For years, it had just been us—me and Pam and Alexei—and we worked well. Our dynamic was set. I was comfortable. I knew what to expect. Everything was orderly, for the most part.

Sookie…she added something new. And I'm not saying I didn't like it, but it was different. Alexei liked her, teased her, but she gave it right back to him. And Pam…I was starting to think Pam liked Sookie more than she liked me. Yes, I was a little jealous of their relationship. I wasn't used to her depending on anyone other than me. But I was glad that she had someone to talk to, someone that I trusted wouldn't be like Alexei and give her horrible advice. Sookie was good with Pam. And Pam actually seemed less withdrawn than she had been.

And me, was I really less cranky like Lex insisted? Or happier like Pam insisted? It could just be that everything else in my life had been running smoothly. I hadn't had to fire anyone for incompetence. Lex was causing less trouble. I wasn't so worried about Pam going into a depression again.

I could claim all of that. But I knew that I was different with Sookie in my life.

"Morning, handsome." I flipped the pancake before glancing at her. She was in jeans and a plain white t-shirt, her hair pulled back. Beautiful.

"Morning." She stood on her tiptoes for a kiss.

"That seems like an awful lot of food."

"Dawson and Amelia are on their way over. She couldn't get into the apartment."

She laughed. "The one time she's up and around before I am. Geez. Do you need any help?"

I raised an eyebrow at her. "I thought you didn't like cooking with other people."

"It's not like it's a law. I can make an exception. For you."

She cooked the sausage while I flipped pancakes. Occasionally, she'd tilt her head, resting it against my arm. And I had to try to keep my smile from branding itself to my face. It felt right to be making breakfast together.

Sookie let Dawson and Amelia in, and then finished up cooking for me so that I could get the kids up before Dawson ate it all. Alexei whined until the smell reached him. Pam practically jumped out of bed, running around her room excitedly, putting on some pink pant outfit. Then she insisted I give her a piggy back. She hadn't asked for one in a long time, and she had me so wrapped around her finger, that I did it.

We ate in the living room since the table wasn't big enough. Amelia started rambling about how she needed to talk to my lawyer and finally told Sookie about how often Bill had been coming by the apartment. It was a lot more often than I'd like to think about, but it also meant that we had him. I hated the look of fear in her eyes, but I didn't know the right words to help. Luckily, they left right after breakfast before Amelia could completely terrify her.

I spent much of the morning assuring her—and assuring myself—that his behavior, his harassment and stalking, would be enough to get the order this time. I told her I'd call Bobby first thing on Monday morning. Hell, I was tempted to call him right that minute even if it was going to cost me double.

She fidgeted next to me the entire drive to the coffee shop, couldn't even settle on a song. She was worse than Alexei was with that thing. When I couldn't take it anymore, I told her to put on Bon Iver. I hoped that it would be mellow enough to calm her down. It didn't. And I kind of felt like a failure for not helping more.

She tensed up when I parked the car. "Hey," I said, getting her to look at me. "I'll be right here beside you the entire time. And if you want me to punch him, I will."

She laughed at that, but it didn't seem entirely stable.

"I can do this," she said, gulping, sounding unsure of herself.

I cupped her face and placed my forehead against hers. "Tell me what you need me to do, Sookie. Anything. If it's within my power, I'll make it happen."

She gently kissed my lips. "I need you to be exactly like you are right now. And also maybe a little more intimidating when we see Bill."

"I can do that," I replied, making it a point to stretch and flex.

She smiled. God, I…You're amazing."

She glanced down, shaking her head, and then reached for her door handle. I met her at her side, took her hand, and walked into the shop. We had arrived a little early, which was fine with me. I ordered us two black coffees and let Sookie pick out her table. She chose a defensive spot, where she had a full view of the room.

The table only had two chairs, so when Bill arrived, I offered him my chair, choosing to stand behind Sookie. I was easily a head taller than him when we were standing, and I knew he would have to crane his neck to look at me while seated. All part of Sookie's plan for me to be intimidating.

She was more composed dealing with him than she had been in the car. She demanded her key back, and he had the gall to feign embarrassment and ignorance, pretending that he had forgotten he even had it. He handed it over and Sookie handed it to me, which made Bill double-take.

His beady little eyes glared at me like I was the villain of the story, like he didn't understand that he was the moron who'd fucked around on her. He lost her. I didn't take her, though I probably would have tried if she'd still been with him. How he could have been stupid enough to make that mistake I will never know, but I was thankful for his stupidity, because it meant that I got her.

While they talked (mostly Sookie telling him to fuck off—but she was much more polite than that), I played with the waves of her ponytail. It had taken me years of practice to be at a level where Pam was happy with me doing her hair. I hadn't had sisters. And Sophie Anne wasn't around, so it fell on me to take care of that too. Pam's being extremely opinionated was both a help and a hindrance. I didn't regret it—not a single second—not even that it was Soph; she was certifiable, but she'd given me Pam.

I was a lucky man.

"Dear one?" I heard Sookie ask, and nearly laughed at her stealing my name for her.

"Yes?"

"Are you ready to go? Or are you going to keep playing with my hair?" And she giggled. I glanced at Bill's seat—his expression was a mixture of constipation and miffed. Basically his normal look.

"I'm ready whenever you are." She stood up and took my hand.

"Goodbye, Bill. I mean that. No more stopping by the apartment. No more showing up at my Gran's house. No more." I stacked her coffee cup on top of mine, both still full though cold now, and threw them in the trash can on the way out.

We went out to a little café on Market Street for lunch. Her mood was considerably brighter on the way back, putting on Animal Collective and dancing in her seat. Much better.

She came back to the house, and all afternoon I tried to ignore that she was planning on going back to her apartment. Yes, the locks were changed. And, yes, Amelia and Dawson both said they'd be there. But that didn't mean that I wanted her farther than an arm's length away. Not in some creepy, controlling way. I just…felt better when she was close.

I sat on the bed pouting, watching her pack all of her stuff back into that stupid bag. It hurt worse than it should have watching her do that. It wasn't like she was leaving me. She was driving across town to sleep in her own bed. I'd see her on Sunday. We had a date planned for Thursday. We talked on the phone most nights. I'd see her.

So why was I taking this so hard?

Concern for her safety? Or pure selfishness? Maybe a little of both.

"Will you quit sighing? Please?" she asked, turning to look at me. I hadn't realized I was sighing. "I'm going back."

"I know." Didn't mean I had to like it.

Sookie threw back her head and groaned, her fingers tangled in her ponytail. "You're acting like I took away your favorite toy." Pretty accurate description. "I need you to pretend like this is no big deal, because I'm freaking out."

"Then stay," I said, standing up and walking over to her. "Stay."

She closed her eyes. "I'm going back, Eric. I am. I need to not be terrified of him lurking around. I need to keep living my life."

I didn't like it, but I could understand where she was coming from. Sort of. I needed to buck up. I _was_ being selfish. She was scared. I could at least pretend to be okay and mope and worry later when she wasn't around to witness it.

"You're right," I said. "It's really not a big deal. Dawson will be there tonight, and, if I had to trust you with anyone, it'd be him. And I'll see you tomorrow when I drop off Pam. And you'll call me. No matter what time it is. For any reason."

She nodded.

"I'm being serious. If you get bored or scared. Or horny. Whatever. Call me. And don't worry about waking me up because I'm not going to be sleeping anyway. Do you understand?" I doubted I would sleep when the worry kicked in.

"Yes, Mr. Northman, I understand." She rolled her eyes.

But even petulant, when she called me Mr. Northman, I wanted to throw her on my bed and fuck her.

"I'm going to say bye to Pam and Lex. Are you walking me to my car?" I took her bag from her hands, pulling the strap onto my shoulder. She went up to Lex's room where he and Pam were playing Call of Duty, even though they both knew that I didn't like her playing it.

"You're actually going back to your apartment?" Pam asked, not looking away from the screen. "I thought for sure that was an act."

"Nope," Sookie replied. "Are you going to tell me goodbye?"

Instead Pam turned to me. "Didn't you ask her to stay?"

"I did."

"Why are you leaving?" she asked Sookie, her voice cold, but before she could answer, Pam spoke again. "You're not supposed to leave. God, why don't you get that?"

She threw down her controller on Alexei's bed and stomped past us. Sookie tried to talk to her, she kept walking. We all listened to her footsteps until her bedroom door slammed.

It wasn't the first time she had done that. It wasn't even the first the first time she had slammed her door over Sookie. But it was the first time Sookie was there to witness it. And she didn't look like she was taking it well.

"What am I supposed to do?" She looked to me.

I dropped her bag on the floor. "Stay here. Talk to Lex."

I went to Pam's room and knocked on her door. She didn't answer, which was actually a good sign. It meant that she wasn't in a yelling mood. Less anger. More hurt. I turned the knob and went in. She was lying face down on her bed. I rubbed my hand along her back and sat down next to her.

"Are you really going to let Sookie leave without saying goodbye?" I asked. She mumbled something against her bedspread. "Speak clearly."

Pam tilted her head to the side, her hair covering her face. "Yes, I'm really going to let her go without saying goodbye."

"I know you're upset that she's leaving—so am I—but I think you'll regret that decision."

"Why is she leaving? I thought she loved us." Shit. I hoped that she wasn't thinking about her mom abandoning her. She'd never come out and asked about it, but I knew she would eventually. I didn't want this to trigger it.

I brushed her hair back. "Sookie loves you. She's not leaving for good. It's something that she feels she has to do. And you have to support her with that whether or not you like it or agree with it. You have to do it because you love her. And if you don't say goodbye, it'll hurt both of you."

"Which one of us was that little speech for?"

I smiled. "You. Now go say goodbye to Sookie."

"I'm still mad she's leaving."

"Me too."

"Just as long as we're on the same page," she replied, sitting up.

"Come on. Let's go." I picked her up and carried her back to Alexei's room. Sookie was half-heartedly pushing buttons on her controller.

I let Pam down, and she walked over to Sookie, wrapping her arms around her in a hug. "We're still getting lunch tomorrow?"

"Of course. I can't wait," Sookie replied quietly. "I love you, sweetie. I'll see you tomorrow."

"I'll see you tomorrow."

Pam came back over to me, and I stroked her head. She and I were too much alike.

Alexei and Sookie said a quick goodbye, nothing quite as dramatic as hers with Pam, which was probably for the best because I still wasn't sure how mine was going to go.

We walked out to her car.

"Is Pam okay?" she asked.

"She'll be fine. She's just upset right now. By tomorrow, she'll be cooled off and will probably talk your head off." I could see Sookie was flipping out, most likely channeling all of her other anxiety into this situation. I wasn't sure if that was for better or for worse. "Don't worry about her."

I wrapped my arms around her and pulled her to my chest. And I kissed her. Not like I wanted to, but like she needed. "Call me for any reason."

"I will."

"I'll see you soon."

"Yeah. I'll see you soon."

I kissed her one last time and handed her the bag. She slid it into the passenger seat. And she hesitated before getting in, her blue eyes searching my face. Before I registered it, she hugged me again, mumbling something into my chest.

And then, just as quickly, she was gone. Sitting in her car. Closing the door. Driving away. While I stood there. Feeling funny. Empty.

Fuck.

"You could stay by my side. I'd share everything I had with you. I could protect you," I said. But she was miles away by that point. And I was still standing barefooted in my driveway.

I finally stopped staring at the ever-fading sun and went back inside where I found Pam and Alexei taking bets on my mood. Lex had anger. Pam thought I'd be sad. I ignored them, going to the kitchen to make pork chops and mashed potatoes—my favorite food, my comfort food. My Nana Northman used to make them when I spent summers with her and Pop-pop.

Mine were never as good as hers.

We ate quietly—I'd never heard Alexei not talk through a meal. He even went straight to his room after dinner, claiming he had homework. Pam followed me around. When I sat in the living room, she was right beside me. When I did the dishes, she got a towel and dried them, even though dishes were her least favorite chore.

After her shower, she even crawled into bed next to me where I was being a complete pussy and hugging her pillow. I'd gone soft. Hell, I'd melted and was a puddle on the floor. Over and over, I kept telling myself that she'd be fine, while simultaneously thinking of ways to get her back to my bed. Pam sat in my lap.

"What's wrong?" I asked.

"You are," she replied. "Eric, you don't act like this. I don't like it. Be mad. Be sad. Be something. Anything."

"Pam." But I didn't know what to say. She was right. "I'll be fine."

"And you're still going to claim that you don't love her? Because you're not kidding anyone."

"Pam, just stop." I sighed. What the fuck was with all the sighing?

"You are both stubborn idiots. We all see it. Why can't you?"

"Go to bed." I kissed the top of her head. "I love you right up to the moon—and back."

"Oh, so you can say it." I started to snap at her, but she held up in her hands in mock surrender. "I love you too, Eric."

I brought my cell phone in the bathroom with me while I showered in the off chance that she actually called.

She didn't.

And pacing around the room wasn't going to change that.

To distract myself, from thoughts of Bill breaking in and thoughts of her scared and crying, I decided to try reading T.S. Eliot's _Four Quartets_. I read "In my beginning is my end" over and over and over, never making it past the first line of "East Coker." I shut the book and put it by my bedside table. I debated calling her for the seventeenth time, and again decided that I was going to let her call me.

I dismissed every thought about Bill breaking in as soon as it occurred, though they kept popping up like internet porn ads. She would be fine. Dawson could easily take Bill. Hell, Alexei could take Bill. She was fine. I was sure she was fine. Probably.

I clutched my phone like a security blanket when I went to the kitchen for a glass of water. If the lack of a call meant that she was okay, that she was fast asleep, then I was glad. Even still, I wanted to hear from her.

It was 3 AM, when my eyes were starting to give out on me, when my phone finally rang. I didn't recognize the number, but answered anyway.

"Hello?"

"Eric?" It was her voice. I didn't know that it was possible to feel relief and panic at the same time.

"Are you okay? What's going on? Whose phone are you calling on?"

"It's Amelia's. You know how Bill works with computers and electronics and stuff?" I hadn't known that, no. "Ames was afraid that he set up listening devices or cameras or something, so she tore the apartment apart. She didn't find anything, but then she got the crazy theory that he bugged my phone, so…"

I'd have her a new phone by the first thing Monday morning.

"Are you okay?"

She sighed. "Yeah. I'm fine. My bed just feels empty."

"So does mine. You could have stayed."

"No, I couldn't have," she replied. I hated not being able to see her face, not having any other clues what that tone of voice meant. "I wouldn't have ever wanted to leave."

"So don't leave."

"You're not really asking me that, Eric. You can't really be asking me that."

Shit.

We were both quiet after that. How was I supposed to respond? If I didn't have kids, would she really be so worried about staying a few nights with me? Would we even be discussing it? Or arguing about it or whatever the hell we were doing?

I listened to her breathing and glanced over to her side of the bed. I'd already come to terms with thinking of it as hers. I was falling for her too quickly, too deeply. I was drowning and my arms were already so tired that I knew there was no point trying to swim to the surface. I was a goner.

"What time do you want me to drop Pam off?" I finally asked.

"Whenever she's ready. She's the only thing on my docket for tomorrow," she replied. "Is she better?"

"Yeah. She's tough. Resilient. A little mopey at first but she'll bounce right back."

Sookie sighed. "Will you stay on the line until I fall asleep?"

"Anything for you, dear one."

We talked very little after that, a stray thought here or there, but mostly just listened. Her breathing became steady. And when I whispered good night to here, I received no response. A few minutes after I hung up, I was asleep too, dreaming of her.

* * *

A/N: The chapter title comes from the song "My Girls" by Animal Collective. If you're interested in that stuff, I'll be posting a link on my profile. Tell me what you think of the chapter.


	23. Red Tulips, Golden Arches

A/N: Thanks to my dear one xjamieee for being supportive and patient. And to seasonblogs for all of the wonderful reviews.

I'm glad that you all love Mr. Northman as much as I do, and I share him willingly with you.

Disclaimer: CH owns SVM

* * *

Eric called at noon—about an hour later than I had anticipated based on his previous behavior—to say that he and Pam were on their way to the apartment. I'd been out of bed since seven, baking muffins and making quiche and frying eggs. And then after that I cleaned up the mess that Amelia had made—putting all the alphabetized DVDs back on the shelves, straightening the wall pictures, organizing the cabinets. She'd only gotten as far as tearing up the apartment, before she and Tray fell into bed. And they still weren't up when he called.

Too many horror movies as a teenager meant that I wasn't going to lose my tactical advantage by putting my earplugs in. Instead, I had to suffer listening to Tray and Amelia go at it, which just made me miss Eric more. I missed his big bed and the feeling of his chest as his breathing evened out.

It's not that I'd wanted to leave him; I didn't—not even a little bit—but I also didn't want to just stop my life because Bill was being a fucktard. And I couldn't stay. Not really. Because I wanted to stay so badly. I wanted to sleep in his bed. And make breakfast with him. Sit next to him and read at night. And it was too soon for that.

We needed to talk, like really talk, about what was happening. I was still dealing with shit from my last boyfriend. But from the moment Eric entered my life, things felt different. I'd tried so hard to avoid him, to not think about him, and then everything avalanched. I was wrapped up in him, tangled in with him and Pam and Alexei and everything they brought to the table.

And I loved it.

And it scared me.

Was I ready for all this? Was he? Were the kids?

There was still so much I didn't know.

And everything I thought I was certain about was becoming all muddled.

After Eric called and I'd finished getting ready, I went back to my room to grab my purse so that Pam and I could head out right away. And that's when I heard the patter of raindrops as they pinged the window pane. Damn. I found a jacket from the closet and threw it over my arm.

I was sure the knock on the door was Eric and Pam, but some shaggy-looking teenager holding a red tulip and purple lilac bouquet greeted me. The flowers were beautiful, and they smelled like the first warm spring day, when everything seemed to awaken from the winter slumber and truly come alive again. I was about to look up their meaning—all of Eric's flowers had some deeper meaning besides just being pretty—when there was another knock on the door. I hadn't even had time to put the flowers down, so I opened the door while still holding him.

Pam stopped briefly to look at me. "Do whatever it is that you do to fix him. I'll go to your room. Five minutes." And then she walked to my room and closed the door.

My stomach did a little flip when I looked at him. Black jeans. Black shirt. Gray jacket. And his long fingers anxiously combing through his hair.

"Did you just get the flowers?"

"Seconds before you got here."

I took the flowers into the kitchen and sat them down on the table. He followed along behind me. "They're an hour late. I'll have to talk to them about that."

I turned around and hugged him. Water droplets that clung to his clothes soaked into my shirt. His arms surrounded me, and it felt like home. "Don't yell at anyone. I got the flowers. And I love them." I took a deep breath, breathing in his scent. "Will you tell me what they mean?"

I pulled away so that I could see his face; he looked sheepish, which just made me want to know more.

He brought his lips to mine, I guessed as a distraction. It totally worked too. His warm lips danced with mine—soft and firm and slow and deep and…ahhh. I'd spent my life with my nose in a book, always searching for the perfect way to express something, but when he kissed me, any concept of the English language went right out the window.

He pulled away, resting his forehead on mine. I loved when he did that. "That's what the flowers mean." I still planned on looking them up, but I rather liked his explanation.

He was great. That was such a weak adjective, couldn't accurately describe everything he was, everything he made me feel. While I was in bed, when I was supposed to be worried about Bill being a total psycho, all I could think about was Eric. And Pam. And all the things she'd said that made my brain go all twisty.

I started quoting Tennyson ("Half the night I waste in sighs") and Sidney ("Come, Sleep! O Sleep, the certain knot of peace") in my head, just trying to distract myself from those thoughts. And when that didn't work, I did something mature and actually made myself deal with them. I ignored how long we'd known each other, or I tried to—that seemed to be the thing I kept getting hung up on, even though I'd known Bill for a while and he'd managed to surprise me—and focused on what I knew about Eric, how he treated me, how he treated Pam and Alexei, how he treated others. I focused on what he'd done and hadn't done, what he'd said and hadn't said.

I circled around it for a long time, and still wasn't fully ready to admit it to myself.

Then I called him. And he basically invited me to stay with him, to move in. And it made me a little skittish.

I wanted so badly to just let go, to fall into him. Because I knew without a doubt that he'd catch me and comfort me and then take me to his bed and make love to me. And, god, I wanted it.

But something in me was holding back.

Eric smiled at me. "We only have about a minute and a half left. I vote we make out."

I laughed at that. He could always make me laugh. "I like the way you think, Mr. Northman."

His smile somehow managed to get wider, as impossible as it seemed. But instead of kissing me, he started swaying back and forth, our arms still binding us together. Almost like we were dancing. I was just about to complain about the lack of music when he started humming softly, as if reading my thoughts, or maybe just anticipating that I'd want a song.

I didn't know how he did that, just knew.

And my heart started to pound rapidly. My stomach did back flips. And my throat itched with words that I couldn't say.

"We're going to need to talk about this," he said quietly, stopping in the middle of his song before picking it right back up.

"I know."

His chest heaved with a huge breath as we continued to dance around my kitchen. I watched as his eyelids closed and he sighed quietly. Then his Adam's apple bobbed as he gulped. He looked nervous, and he didn't wear it well.

I kissed him softly and then locked eyes with him. And sighed.

"I thought you were going to fix him," Pam said, coming into the room. "He looks worse than before. You'll both feel better if you just say it."

"Pam," Eric said, his voice stern. "You've been very insolent lately. I don't want to hear from Sookie that you were—"

"I know, Eric," she interrupted, miming locking her lips with a key. Then she made a dramatic display of tossing the key away and grinning.

He squeezed me tighter for a second, before relaxing his arms. "Do you want me to pick her up or do you want to bring her to the house?" And then stay with me forever. He didn't say the last part, but I could hear it in his tone. I told myself 'hush' in my best librarian's voice before I could blurt out that I would. I had to give this whole reclaiming my life bit more than one night. I was strong; I was independent. I didn't _need_ Eric to feel safe.

"I can drop her off." His face fell at that. And I hated it. This was on me; I was the one upsetting him.

"Bye, Sookie." I'd been anticipating my nickname, and it kind of made me sad that he didn't call me 'dear one.' It was stupid. It shouldn't have hurt to hear him use my given name.

"Bye, Eric."

When he closed the apartment door, I thought I might actually break down. "Don't do that," Pam said. I'd forgotten she was there. "Neither of you is getting any sympathy from me. You're both morons. Go get your computer. Look up what the flowers mean, but if you don't already know then I have overestimated your intelligence."

I trudged to my room, getting my laptop and looking up answers for questions that I already knew.

But that knowledge didn't settle many nerves. We still needed to talk, to figure this shit out. Would I stay with him? Could I love him for years? For a lifetime? Because I couldn't let myself become a part of his world, his family, and then have to rip myself from it. I already loved Lex and Pam too much for that.

There was so much we needed to say. So many little things that we hadn't said.

"When are you going to tell him? Because he's seriously depressing. He doesn't do anything, just sits around looking emo all the time. After you left last night, he wasn't himself. Eric isn't unsure of himself. Ever. Not like this."

Fuck.

We weren't going to be able to delay that talk. My well-honed avoidance skills were going to have to go the way of slap bracelets and Tamagotchis—put in a little box in my closet. I needed to be upfront. I needed to deal with this.

I ignored her question. "Where do you want to go eat?"

"McDonalds." I lifted an eyebrow. "Dad never lets me go."

"Will he be mad at me for taking you?" I asked. The last thing I needed was him pissed at me for getting her French fries.

She rolled her eyes. "As if I'd mess up things between you guys anymore than you've already done. If we get fast food, which we hardly ever do, he prefers Burger King."

We went to Mickey D's and she told me all about how it was her last week of school, how she was excited to be done. She told me about how she couldn't wait for summer or her new summer clothes. Sometimes she really acted like the kid I tended to forget that she was. Apparently, they were going to spend a week at Eric's grandparent's house, which she hadn't seen in a year. She said that Eric wanted her to take swimming lessons, but that she wasn't "too overly fond" of that idea.

And in my car, on the drive back to the house, she managed to find every love song on my iPod and play them all in rapid succession. I parked in the driveway and shut off the engine. When she made a move to get out, I stopped her.

"You and I need to talk before I talk to Eric." She nodded and settled into her seat, while I turned around to face her. "Where is your head at in all of this? Are you going to be okay with me as a regular part of your life? Sleeping down the hall or making you breakfast? Tucking you into bed? Because I know that's something you usually reserve for Eric.

"And it's fine if you aren't, sweetie. I know that this has been a big adjustment for you. And it's happened so quickly. For all of us. I just need to know before I go into that house and tell Eric…that you're really okay with this."

"Sookie, I'm fine." I kept staring at her. "Honestly. Excluding a few days of brooding, Eric's happy. And that makes up for a lot of things."

"Like what?"

She sighed. "Like that he spends a lot of time with you. And that sometimes he seems distracted. And that he keeps trying to sing even though he's tone deaf." She smirked. "You're good for him. You're good for all of us. Though I wish you were around more."

"What if it doesn't work out?"

"We'll deal with that if it ever gets to that point," she replied. When had she become the adult in this conversation?

"Okay," I said, my fight or flight instincts kicking in. "Let's go." I needed to get into the house before my urge to run got so strong that I actually took off in my Chucks down the street.

Pam grabbed my hand on the porch. "Chill. You're not walking to your execution. He loves you." I squeezed it tightly as we stepped inside. The house was silent. "Eric, I'm home," Pam yelled out. A few seconds later, his footsteps echoed down the stairs.

"How did…lunch go?" His sentence faltered when he stepped into the room and saw me. "Hey."

"Hey. Um. Library?" This wasn't the kind of conversation I wanted to have in the living room. And if we had it in his bedroom, there wasn't a chance in hell I'd be able to convince myself to leave again.

He nodded and placed his hand on my lower back, leading me to the library. I sat down at that table, and, instead of sitting across from me, he chose the seat next to me, mumbling something about us being on the same side. His fingers twined with mine, and it was ridiculous how much that little gesture made me feel better, more at peace. We were on the same side; we were in this together.

Both of us sat quietly.

For a long time.

"I don't know where to begin," I finally said, breaking our tense silence. "I feel like there's so much we've left unsaid. I don't even remember if we did the whole dopey, third grade 'I like you; do you like me too?' thing. We just happened. And it's great, but there's so much…" I was beginning to feel overwhelmed when he squeezed my hand.

"In case I was really that much of an idiot and never said it, I do like you." And he winked. I smiled and just like that he'd calmed me down. "Where do you want to start?"

Maybe it was because we were sitting at the table where we'd first had sex, but that's straight where my brain went to. "I'm clean and on the pill. You said you're clean too, so wearing a condom is up to you."

He nodded. "What happens if we get pregnant?"

The first image that popped in my mind was of him feeding an infant. The second was him freaking out over me getting pregnant and walking out. I didn't even know if he wanted more kids. I mean, he already had Pam. And Alexei was basically his too. Maybe they were all he wanted. He said he loved Pam, that she was the best thing that ever happened to him, but that didn't mean anything.

I started to feel sick.

I wanted kids. I wanted to be a mom, to feel a baby coming to life inside of me. But if Eric and I got pregnant next week? Next month?

"I don't know," I replied. "Do you even want kids? I mean, besides the ones you already have."

"I always figured that someday I'd get married and have another kid or two. I'm not…opposed to the idea of having more children if I know that they'll be somewhere stable. Pam and I managed, but I don't want to do that again. I want my next child to be with someone I love, someone that I trust."

"Okay," I replied, letting out a big breath. Good. Information that I hadn't known before. That was progress. "What else?"

"You never answered if you wanted kids."

I nodded. "I do. Always have."

"Would you…I don't mean this to sound like I'm rushing things, because I'm not. I just have to ask, because…this is my life. And I don't really have the luxury of puttering around. Would you be able to raise Pam?"

I understood why he'd have to ask someone, though I was a bit surprised he'd have to ask me. I thought that he knew by now. "I love Pam. That wouldn't be an issue for me. What about Alexei?"

"Our father hasn't tried to reclaim custody since being released from prison, which I didn't figure he would, so I'll have him for at least another year until he goes to college." His free hand brushed through his hair. Eric had never really said what happened to his dad, so that was all new information for me to process. "What else?"

"Pam said that you were going to visit your grandparents?" He'd alluded to them once or twice, but I didn't know anything about them.

"Yes. My maternal grandparents. I started visiting again each summer after Pam was born. They're really the only family I'm still in contact with. They're good people, have helped me out a lot since I first moved out. Mom was their only child, so…we're kind of all they have too." I could understand that. Both of Gran's kids were gone, and who knew where Hadley had ended up, so Jase and I were her family. "How big of an issue is me buying you a new phone going to be?"

I felt my forehead wrinkle. I hadn't expected that. I'd planned on getting a new phone after payday. "Eric, I have money. I have a job. I don't need a handout."

"It's not a handout. It's a gift. You let me buy you flowers, but you won't let me buy you a phone. The flowers will die eventually. The cell phone is actually a practical gift, much more practical than the gifts you've already accepted without complaint."

"It's too much."

"It's really not. It'll actually be much cheaper than the flower shop."

Sweet Jesus, he did not just say that. "Tell me you're joking," I replied, my voice an octave higher and squeaking. He did not buy a flower shop.

"It wasn't just for you. It was a good investment. I know the people managing it. I can show you the books if you want to see them. I should be making a profit by the end of next year. Well, if they can get their delivery staff in order that is."

"Money's not really an issue for you, is it?" I asked.

"It has been. At times. But I play it pretty safe usually, unless I'm sure the risk is worth it. This house," he said, gesturing with his head to the wall in front of us, "I've been saving up for it for nearly ten years. Our house before this one was tiny, but the rent was cheap and it allowed me the opportunity to be frugal. My financial decisions are calculated. One cell phone isn't going to bankrupt me. But that's not what this is about. It's about your _independence_. I know you can take care of yourself. But I can take care of you too."

His eyes were absolutely serious. And I didn't know how to respond to that. I wasn't sure which side of me I was going to let speak—the independent one or the uber-romantic. And I couldn't just say, 'we'll talk about it later,' because talking time was now.

"Is there a way we compromise on the phone thing?" He signaled to go on. "I'll let you buy me the phone, nothing overly fancy—"

"We're going to need to change your number too. I don't want him tracking you that way." Damn it, Bill. I'd had that number since I'd gotten my first cell phone.

"Okay, new normal person phone and change my number, but you don't bug me about staying here again until…Thursday." Date night.

That gave me a few more days to try to get back to normal, to get back into my routine.

"Can I make a comment before I address your offer?" he asked. He sounded in control, calm. He had his business face on. It was pretty hot. I nodded. "You keep saying that you don't want Bill to interrupt your life, but you're letting him do just that when you try to go back to the way things were instead of allowing yourself to move forward."

Huh. That was an interesting take.

"As for your proposal, I won't mention it again, but the offer stands. You are welcome to stay whenever you like. I'd be more than happy to share my bed." I nodded, still trying to process the whole 'you're not moving forward' thing. Was I really doing that? "Is there anything else?"

We both stared at each other. I wondered if he was going to say it, and I'm sure he was wondering the same thing about me. I tried to think of anything else we needed to talk about. Anything.

"I'm going to visit Gran the weekend after next. I was going to ask if Pam could come with me since she'll be out of school."

"Yes, that should be fine. At the end of June you know we're going to my grandparents. Well, I was hoping that you would join us."

I tried not to freak about meeting the only remaining Northmans and focused on speaking like a normal person. "I'll have to check and make sure I don't have a conference that conflicts, but I'd like that. A lot."

"Good."

And then the staring started happening again. Eric sighed and stood up, taking my hand to join him. He sat down in one of the big leather chairs and pulled me into his lap. His lips brushed against the side of my neck. His arms coiled around me.

"I'm not going to say it just because Pam thinks I should, that the truth will set me free or whatever she spouting off about earlier. When I say it, it's because I do and I mean it and because I want to. And not because there's this strange pressure or cloud hanging over me. I want you to know that when I do tell you that I love you that I'm completely sincere."

Even hearing him say it indirectly made my heart beat really quickly. He tangled his fingers in my hair and moved my head so that I was where he wanted. And he kissed me.

* * *

A/N: Random trivia: I wrote this chapter while listening to "The Gambler" by Fun on repeat. One line in particular surprisingly worked with what I already had planned for the story: "I swear when I grow up, I won't just buy you a rose. I will buy the flower shop."

Yeah. Thoughts?


	24. I and Love and You

A/N: This chapter is a beast-take that however you want. It's the longest so far. And it was a challenge because someone *cough cough Sookie* is a stubborn brat. Any who, thanks to xjamieee for dealing with neurosis and being all-around awesome.

Disclaimer: CH owns SVM

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He wouldn't say anything, but I could hear it in his voice. He sounded weary. Defeated. Every night when we talked on the phone, I listened to him. And it broke my heart. He wasn't sleeping, not at night at least. Maybe he did during the day. But I doubted it.

On Wednesday morning my new phone arrived. He'd told me he could get it way sooner, but I didn't want him to spend an outrageous sum of money to get it to me. He was pretty much the only person I talked to on the phone anyway. And Ames was letting me use hers.

Amelia and Tray were both always at the apartment. And even though Tray had taken off a bunch from work the week before, he magically didn't have to go this week either. It was Eric's doing, of course. He wouldn't leave me unguarded, or Tray unpaid—Tray might have let that slip Tuesday morning. Eric was basically paying him to sit around our apartment and screw his girlfriend, while Eric also had to pay someone else to be a bouncer. I was costing him money. A lot. Because I wouldn't stay at his house.

Wednesday night, after dinner, I called Gran to give her my new number. She asked why I had to get a new phone, and I fell apart on her. I told her about Bill having a key and him showing up at the apartment. Then I told her about Eric freaking out and us trying to get a protective order—his lawyer was still working on it—and having me stay at the house. And finally I told her about him basically inviting me to live with him and Pam thinking that we loved each other and the flowers that he had gotten me—red tulips as a declaration of love and purple lilac for first love. But that he hadn't actually said it. And I hadn't either.

And she was quiet for several deep, heavy, silo-sized seconds.

"Sookie, you are a smart girl, but sometimes it frightens me when you don't realize how dumb you're being."

"I beg your pardon?" I asked. I'd expected her to ooh and ahh and tell me that everything would work itself out in the end. You know, Gran stuff. This I hadn't anticipated. Gran thought I was being stupid?

"Let me make sure I understood you, sweetie. Eric asked you to live with him, gave you flowers that mean he loves you, is taking care of you, and you refuse to stay at his house out of some ridiculous need to be self-reliant?" I replied that was pretty much right. She huffed into the phone. "You are denser than your brother when he's had too much to drink, if that's even humanly possible. Of course he's not going to be the first one to say 'I love you.' He's putting himself out there, and you are rejecting him, belittling everything he's done for you."

"I'm not," I defended myself. I wasn't doing that. I appreciated everything that Eric had done. I did. I didn't reject him.

Right?

I'd refused his offer to stay with him. I hadn't even thanked him for the new phone, just complained the entire time. Or for having Tray protect me. Or for talking to his lawyer. He hadn't needed to do any of that.

Shit.

"All I'm saying, Sookie, is that if Eric asked me to move in with him, you'd have to pull me away tooth and nail. From all you've told me, he seems like a wonderful man that anyone should be happy to have, so why aren't you having this conversation with me from his house?"

"What if he ends up being like Bill?" I blurted out, surprising myself with the question. Where had that come from?

"Bill was a manipulator," Gran said, her voice softer. "I saw it, but looked past it because you seemed to love him so much. And that was wrong of me. But don't do Eric the dishonor of comparing him to Bill."

I hadn't even realized that it had been one of my worries. That I'd be doing it all along.

Bill was great at the beginning of our relationship; he was sweet and gentlemanly. He was such a departure from Quinn who had always seemed so rough, so in-your-face direct about everything and everyone. Quinn was abrasive, but Bill seemed smooth. Too smooth, I guess.

It happened little by little, so that I didn't even notice until it was too late. He'd make comments about my clothes, about what he thought flattered me and what didn't. Red was out—"Harlots wear red." So was anything low-cut or too short. Then it was my makeup and my hair and my weight. How I rambled when I was introduced to new people. Or how I "pretended" to be smarter than I was by using my "university words." But the way he said everything made it seem like he was saying it all out of love, out of concern for me.

And I bought into it.

Amelia finally got fed up with it. And thank the lord for her. She bought me a present. And Bill lost it. He yelled at me over a red dress, claiming that I was a slut and cheating on him. The façade started to crack. Bit by bit. To the point that it didn't even surprise me to find out that he was cheating on me. With her. She was a psycho bitch and he was a controlling douche bag—a match made in hell.

But the point was that everything was fine at the beginning. I was sure that I loved him. Then things got fucked up.

I didn't want that to happen with Eric.

I wanted him to always be this man, the one that I loved.

I loved him. I loved Eric.

A lot.

He was good and kind and selfless. And he wasn't like Bill. He'd never belittled me or treated me as an inferior. He put my desires above his own, even when they hurt him—emotionally, financially. Eric didn't try to control me; he let me make my own decisions and mistakes. He wasn't Bill who constantly kept me at arm's length, close enough to control but not too close to get mixed up in. But with Eric we'd always been a little too mixed up in one another, yet still never close enough; he pulled me to him and I craved more. He invited into his home, his bed, his arms.

And I'd said no.

I laughed out loud at my own stupidity; the whole world seemed clearer. Brighter. Easier. Shit, I'd been so dumb.

"Eric isn't Bill," I said, absolutely one hundred percent, two plus two equals four, the sky is blue positive about that statement.

"Finally, the girl gets it. I'm so happy to have my intelligent granddaughter back."

"Gran, I have to go."

She laughed. "Bye, sweetie. Tell me what happens."

I hung up and ran to my room, throwing clothes and toiletries into a bag, barely remembering to grab my phone and charger on the way out. Amelia caught me just as I was running through the living room, but, when she saw my bag, she just smirked and waved me on. The drive to Eric's was both too quick and too slow. I was bouncing in my seat, but felt a little sick to my stomach, the nerves finally getting to me. Was I really going to do this?

Yes. The answer was a resounding yes. The things I would gain far out-weighed any downside. I only hoped he'd be able to forgive me for taking so long to realize that.

I pulled into the driveway, but his shiny red car wasn't there. My fingers fumbled against the keys of the new phone, and he answered almost immediately. God, he really was right there, so close. Waiting on me to pull my head out of my ass. I didn't deserve him. Not in the slightest.

"What's wrong?" he asked, his voice panicked.

"Nothing's wrong," I assured him. "I was just wondering where you were."

I heard him let out a big breath, sighing in relief. "Glasir. Just finishing up some paperwork. Where are you?"

"The house."

After a few seconds of letting that soak in, he said, "I'll be there in fifteen minutes. Pam and Alexei are home, so they can let you in."

I walked up to the front door, my bag feeling heavy in my hands, where Pam was waiting for me with a twisted grin on her face. She held it open for me. "Took you long enough."

"Nice to see you too"

"This is the living room," Pam said, gesturing with her arms, even pointing out Alexei who was lying on the couch watching South Park. "I'm sure you remember my uncle."

"Hey, Lex." He lifted his hand, but looked otherwise apathetic to my arrival. I wasn't sure whose greeting I preferred.

"You can put your bag in Eric's room. If you can't recall where that is, I'd be overjoyed to show you the way."

"I get it, Pam. Long time no see and stuff," I replied.

"No, you don't get it. If you did, you would have been here days ago. Hell, you never would have left in the first place." This was not how I saw this going. I should have known better. Nothing's ever easy with Pam.

I sat down in Eric's big comfy chair and sighed, running fingers through my hair—a Northman habit that I'd picked up. "What do you want me to say, Pam? What do you want me to do?"

She put her hands on her hips, staring me down. "Go back in time and don't leave on Saturday. Or Sunday." I tried to speak again, but she cut me off. "You left. You didn't have to watch him these past few days. You didn't have to see what _you_ did to him. And it's just going to keep happening. You're just going to keep leaving. And I'm going to have to keep watching him turn into a zombie."

"I won't leave." I told her, shaking my head, promising things that I hadn't known I was going to promise but meaning them. "Not unless you want me to." I gulped, fearing that she would say she wanted me to go. Being on the receiving end of Pam's wrath was not my favorite place in the world.

"You're just saying that so I won't be mad."

"I'm not," I told her. And then I took a deep breath. "I love you both. And I love Eric. I want to be a part of your world. If you'll let me."

Alexei sat up on the couch. I glanced away from Pam to look at him, his Eric-blue eyes staring back. "Are you going to tell him that?"

I nodded. "When he gets here."

He gave me a slight smile before he stood up. "It's bedtime, Pam." He must have learned his authoritative voice from Eric.

She scoffed. "No. Dad's tucking me in."

"I think he's going to be a little busy."

"No, I want to be tucked in. And you suck at doing it," she told him. By the way he rolled his eyes, I thought it was a fair bet he'd heard that more than once before.

"Do you want me to do it?" I asked quietly.

She whipped her head around to look at me, her hair swishing into her face with the sudden movement. For a brief second, I thought she was going to bite my head off, but then her eyes softened. "Yeah."

While she went to the bathroom to brush her teeth, I took my bag into Eric's room, placing it right inside the door. He'd said that I could come at any time. And I really hoped he meant that because I was about to bank on that statement. In his room, I may have walked around memorizing every detail and then sat down on his side of the bed and cradled his pillow.

I finally pulled myself away and went to Pam's room. She was already in bed with a book, so I climbed in next to her and read it to her, even though it was way below her reading level. I didn't recognize it until the very end when I read the last line. "I love you right up to the moon—and back."

I swallowed hard, trying to not let the tears form. And failing. This was her and Eric's thing. And she was letting me in on it. In a small way.

"I'm sorry that I hurt you when I left. I thought I was making the right decision, but I was wrong. And I hope you can forgive me."

"Please don't cry," she said. I laughed, but it sounded all strangled.

"I'm sorry. I really made a mess of things and I hope it's not too late to fix it."

"It's not," she replied. "I can forgive you. And Alexei already has. And Eric loves you so much that you could kill someone and he'd just help you bury the body. I'm going to suggest Bill. It's your choice, but that's who I'd go with."

When I laughed this time, I sounded normal, though two random tears broke through my barrier and ran down my cheeks. "I love you, Pam." I kissed the top of her head, the way Eric always did, and tucked the covers around her.

"I love you too, Sookie. Will you be here when I wake up?"

"Unless Eric kicks me out."

"I'll see you tomorrow."

I walked slowly back to the living room, prepared to wait for his arrival, but Eric was already there—he'd no doubt broken more than a few traffic laws—sitting on the couch with his feet propped up on the coffee table. I took a second to admire him. Dark jeans that weren't too tight. Red and black plaid shirt. And a gray button-up cardigan. His clothes looked amazing.

But there were bags under his eyes. And his face was sallow. And he looked thinner, like maybe he wasn't eating. Unlike me, who had put on a few pounds because I was eating everything in sight.

"Hey," he said emotionlessly, never turning his head but somehow knowing that I was standing there.

"Hi." Damn it, Sookie. Now is not the time to be silent. You came here for a reason. He's already said his piece. It's your turn.

"I'm an idiot." Maybe not the three words he expected to hear, but ones that needed to be said all the same.

"Okay."

I huffed at my own speechlessness, and walked over to the couch to sit down beside him, the increase in proximity settling me down. "I'm a fucking idiot. And I'm sorry for not appreciating you and everything you've done for me, because you've been amazing. And, I'd like to stay tonight, if you'll let me. I'd like to stay a lot longer than that actually."

And then he showed the first sign of life by engulfing my small hand with his. "Not that I'm not thrilled, but what made you come to this conclusion?"

"I was talking to Gran on the phone—actually she was scolding me—but I just had this sort of epiphany, Hallelujah chorus moment when I realized that you're not Bill. You're not controlling or manipulative or a psycho. You're wonderful and sweet and protective. And I…" I took a deep breath. "I love you. A lot. And I'm not afraid of that anymore."

"You love me?" I nodded. "You're going to stay?" I nodded again. And a big smile spread across his face. "Okay. Good."

I leaned my head against his shoulder. "When was the last time you ate?"

"Breakfast." Liar.

"Okay, now when was the last time you really ate?"

"What day is it?" he asked, and I knew that was a bad sign. "We ate lunch together on Saturday. That's probably the answer you want."

Geez Louise. Definitely not the answer I _wanted_, but at least he was being truthful. "Come on." I dragged him into the kitchen with me, making him sit at the table while I made him a sandwich, somehow remembering that he preferred mustard to mayo and turkey to ham. I sat it down in front of him, wishing that I could cook something more elaborate but wanting to get food in him quickly.

"Thank you," he said after he scarfed it down.

"Are you still hungry? I can get you another." I stood up and started walking toward the kitchen, but his fingers slid around my wrist, pulling me back to him so that I was standing between his long legs.

His arms coiled around my waist. "You're staying?" he asked again, like he wanted to make sure he hadn't hallucinated that in his food-deprived state, and I nodded. "Where's your bag?"

"In the room."

His lips twitched with a smile as he stood, the arms encircling me, lifted me so that I was thrown over his shoulder caveman-style. I could honestly say that no one had ever carried me that way before, and I had to admit that I liked it, the way one of his arms securely held my thighs, while his free hand grazed my ass. He walked confidently to the bedroom, locking it behind him. And I began to vibrate with the anticipation of what was to come.

Eric started to lower me, and before my feet even hit the bedroom floor, his lips were on mine. Not roughly. But deeply, passionately.

Echoing the same need, desire, want that I felt.

Clothes were discarded quickly, strewn across the floor as hands groped. And lips kissed and sucked. Fingernails clawed. Tongues licked. And teeth bit.

In an effort to mark, to claim, to possess.

He thrust into me and my chest arched against his. Writhing beneath him. He growled as he hit deep within me. We flipped and rolled and moaned and came in a mess of tangled limbs and sweaty skin.

Then, when my body was too useless to even walk, he carried me to the shower and we cleaned off until the innocent touches became a little less innocent. And everything was slower, gentler. He took his time. And it felt worshipful, staring into his eyes and watching him come undone with me.

And then we went to bed, his body curved around mine, his arm holding me to him. I felt right again. Correct. Within minutes, the rise and fall of his chest lulled me to sleep.

A knock on the door woke me up. Light was streaming through the windows. Shit. How late was it? So much for Eric's internal clock. He was still lying beside me, one arm thrown over his eyes, the other reaching toward me. I slipped out of bed, pulling on my jeans and searching around for something to cover myself with. I had to settle on Eric's cardigan, even though it was very low cut.

I pulled open the door a bit and Alexei just snorted. "Yeah. That's what I thought. It's seven, just so you know. Pam and I have school, and I'm pretty sure you have work."

"Thank you, Alexei," I said. Shit. I almost overslept for the last day of school, then again Eric and I both needed it. "When does he go into work on Thursdays?"

The boy shrugged. "He usually works nights, but since you guys have that thing tonight, I don't know. You'd have to ask him."

"But he looks so adorable when he's asleep," I said, not wanting to wake him. He needed to sleep.

"If you say so," Lex replied. "Pam wants her hair done. And we can just have cereal for breakfast while you get ready."

"Okay, um, tell her I can do her in about ten minutes." And then I hugged Alexei. He seemed surprised for a second, but then hugged me back. "You're a good kid. I'll drive you guys to school soon."

I grabbed my bag and ran to the bathroom, changing into my red wrap dress and putting wax in my hair to define the waves. I kept my makeup light—blush, mascara, lipstick. And I was done getting ready sooner than I thought I'd be.

I walked over to Eric's sleeping form and kissed his cheek. He reached out to grab me and tried to pull me back to bed. "No, no, Mr. Northman. I have to go to work."

He sat up in bed really quickly. "What time is it?" he asked, his voice panicky. "Are the kids up? Fuck. I can't believe I overslept."

I shushed him and cupped his face, trying to calm him down. "It's seven. They're awake. They're getting ready. I'm about to go do Pam's hair." He tried to get up. "What time do you go into work?"

"Ten."

"Then go back to bed for another hour or two. I can take care of things of the kids." With my thumbs I traced the bags under his eyes. "Sleep, Mr. Northman." He was always more cooperative when I called him that.

He smiled sleepily. "I love you."

I turned my head to the side and giggled like a little girl who had just been told that the boy she had a crush on liked her back.

Eric loved me. I already knew that, but it sounded infinitely better in his voice. He turned my face back to his, eyes shining despite the tiredness.

"I love you, my dear one," he said again, smiling at my reaction.

"I love you too." We kissed for a few minutes before I pulled away. "I have to go do your daughter's hair. And you need to go back to sleep. I only have to go a half day, so I can pick them up; call the school to let them know. I'll see you tonight."

"You don't have to do that."

I shrugged. "You always take care of me. Let me return the favor." He smiled and kissed me again.

"I'll see you tonight."

I found out that doing Pam's hair, like most things with her, was not an easy task. It took a while, but I finally managed to braid it to her liking. Alexei sat on the couch and snickered the entire time. Traffic wasn't too bad, so I managed to get them to school on time. I was actually pretty proud of that accomplishment.

I'd done a fairly good job of getting the library in order for the last week, so there wasn't much left for me to do. I turned in my book inventory to Alcide and made sure that everything was pristine. The computers had all be cleaned of student-saved files, browser histories and cookies cleaned, scanned for viruses.

I stayed about an hour after school let out before locking up and turning my key into the office. Then I drove to the apartment to pack more clothes. In my haste, I'd only brought enough for one night, so I found another bag and packed enough clothes to last until Monday. I left a note for Amelia on the kitchen table in case she wondered where I was, though I doubted she would. She saw me leaving for Eric's; she'd give me at least a week before she called worried.

Since I had a little time to kill before picking up Pam and Alexei, I stopped in at Paperback Heaven to get _Little Women_. I had noticed that it was missing from Pam's book collection, and I'd always loved it. It was really long, but I hoped that we could read it together. At the store, though, I could only find an abridged version in the children's section, and figured that was probably for the best, since I didn't know if she'd even like it. Claudine ringed it up, and I drove back to Caddo.

I didn't have any trouble picking them up, and, while Alexei played DJ with my iPod, Pam told me about her day. They had to go until tomorrow, which really peeved Pam.

"Next year are you going to take me to school every morning?"

"I'm sure," I replied. "And Alexei will be driving himself."

"Three more weeks," he reminded us. "Has Eric told you what kind of car he's getting me?"

I shook my head.

"Damn, I was hoping you would know. He won't tell me either." I didn't know what he was allowed to say in front of Pam, so I kept quiet on that.

"What are you doing for your birthday?"

"We usually do a family dinner. But I'm also doing something with some friends from school."

"Will Kira be there?" I asked. I shouldn't have laughed at the look he gave me, but I couldn't help it. "Just a friend. I know. You said friends."

"I'm not talking about this with you."

I glanced in the rearview mirror. Pam was smirking. "Why not?"

Instead of answering, Alexei brushed some of my hair out of the way and tapped his fingers on my neck. "What's that, Sookie? It looks like a burn."

"Shut up," I blurted. I wanted nothing more than to look at myself in the mirror and see if he was lying. I didn't remember seeing a hickey when I put on makeup. Shit, I'd gone to school like that. I'd talked to the vice principal.

I fixed my hair back over my neck, knowing that I couldn't check until after we got back. I wouldn't risk losing focus while Eric's kids were in the car. It was a good thing that it was about that time that we pulled up to the gates, so my wait was short lived.

I blew past Eric in the living room, and Alexei's laughter echoed through the whole house. From the bathroom, I could hear Eric asking him what was going on, but he couldn't stop laughing long enough to answer. After about thirty seconds of studying myself in the mirror, I went back to the living room and stared at Lex.

"Yes, Sookie? Something wrong?" I really wanted to yell at him, do something to wipe the smirk off his face. But he'd won. He got me to stop talking about Kira. He was good.

"Nope," I said, popping the 'p.' "Everything is hunky dory. Thanks for asking."

"It's the least I can do after you so kindly drove us to and from school."

"No problem." I pulled my hair up with one of my hands. "Where was the burn you were pointing out earlier?" I asked. Eric sighed and looked like he was about to take something of Alexei's away, so I went and sat down in his lap.

"Don't. It was all in good fun. I was teasing him too, so if you punish him, you have to punish me."

Eric put his chin on my shoulder and murmured into my ear, "I think I'd enjoy that."

"Oh god," Alexei said, getting off the couch. "You two are disgusting."

Eric chuckled, his warm breath on my neck. "How was your day, dear one?"

"Good. How was yours?"

"Amazing. I woke up to the woman I love kissing me. It can't get much better than that."

I smiled. "You're being mushy, Mr. Northman."

"You make me mushy, dear one."

We sat contentedly for a while, until I remembered that I left my bag and Pam's new book in the car. He looked excited when I mentioned that I brought more stuff over and insisted on carrying it in. After giving Pam the book, at Eric's behest, I put my toothbrush in his bathroom, along with my makeup bag and hairbrush.

He looked so happy watching me that I thought he might come. I couldn't believe he'd get so much joy out of something that small, that insignificant, but he did. So I let him revel in it.

We dressed casually enough—him in jeans and a blue button-up shirt, one I'd never seen him in before, and me in a blue sundress. I swear we didn't plan it. I'd packed it the day before and changed in the bathroom, but when I came out I was surprised we were wearing the same shade. The dress had been an impulse buy right after I'd first met Eric; it reminded me of his eyes.

Eric stared at me for a few seconds and then chuckled. "Barry's going to love this."

The restaurant, El Gallo, was just down the block from Cunningham's, and, Eric informed me, was partly owned by the same man. He and Barry had, apparently, worked together before, started businesses, invested. Capital. Market value. Blah. I tried my best to pay attention because it was important to him and I'd wondered for so long about his finances, but my eyes glazed over more than once.

The rooftop was crazy, crowded, and noisy—the music and voices seemed to crescendo and decrescendo together. Eric had a table set aside for just him in a more secluded corner. We shared a double order of chicken fajitas, and even though I rarely drank anything other than a gin and tonic, I tried a blood orange margarita. Eric drank a Corona. After I finished my first margarita, I got another and then another, which led us on the topic of getting drunk.

"I don't drink at work, because it's work. And I don't keep alcohol at the house, because I have a curious seven-year-old and a delinquent brother."

Huh? "Wait. He was drinking last week."

"Bought it with his fake ID." He ran his fingers through his hair. "Anyway, yeah, I haven't gotten drunk in years."

"That's a shame. I bet you'd be really fun drunk."

He barked out a laugh. "I get really gropey. Or so I've been told. I'm sure Barry has pictures somewhere."

"Oh, so you have told her about me?" I looked up at the man who'd approached our table and was surprised at how young he was; he couldn't have been more than thirty. But the way Eric always talked about him was as if he was someone older, someone he respected and looked up to.

"I have. Barry Cunningham, this is Sookie Stackhouse. Sookie, Barry." He held out his hand and I shook it.

"It's nice to finally meet you, Miss Stackhouse."

"Oh, please, call me Sookie," I said, waving my hand around haphazardly. Three margaritas. Smart decision, Stackhouse.

"Eric talks about you all the time. It's adorable." Eric rolled his eyes.

"He is adorable, isn't he? I patted his hand on the table. "He hates it when I say that, but it's one of the reasons I love him." The words still felt so new, so novel. And they bubbled to my lips so often since the first time I'd admitted it to myself, that I couldn't stop it. It's like the scene from _Superbad_ where Seth says, "I just want to shout it from the rooftops: I love my best friend Evan." Except I wanted to shout that I loved Eric.

Or maybe it was the alcohol talking.

We talked with Barry for a few minutes—he asked us how we liked the food and I gushed on and on about how good it was. Then he told Eric that he had a new proposition for him. Eric said for Barry to call him and they'd set up a meeting time.

After dessert (peaches and cream soapapillas), Eric led me back to his car, his arm tight around my waist as we went down the stairs. I'd had more to drink that I'd had in a long time, probably since college, so it was a really good thing that I had the day off. There was no way I was going to be able to function tomorrow. As much as that thought should have scared me, I started laughing hysterically, but, when I tried to explain it to Eric, he just shook his head and ran his fingers through his hair.

On the drive back, I leaned over and trailed kisses along his jaw, while he muttered, "I should have known."

Eric carried me into the house and placed me gently on our bed. He took of my shoes one at a time and put them on the floor in front of the bed. I wiggled and tugged and pulled at my dress trying to get it off but failed. It only took him a few seconds to do what I failed. Eric put my dress in the hamper, and I saw my clothes from yesterday in there as well. He'd cleaned up. My eyes lazily followed him around the room as he stripped down to his underwear—he was so beautiful—and climbed into bed next to me.

One minute with him wrapped around me was all it took before I was asleep in his warm embrace.

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A/N: Yeah, it's 5AM. I'm sure there's something I'm supposed to be saying down here, but I can't think of it for the life of me. Oh, wait, chapter title comes from The Avett Brothers. And thoughts? Comments? Opinions?


	25. The Things That We're Afraid Of

A/N: The response for last chapter was phenomenal, so I want to thank you all for that. Also, I want to assure those who asked that this is not the end. There are too many threads that need tying up before we conclude. I'll give you fair warning before the story ends.

Disclaimer: Not mine.

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I was just putting the hamburgers on the grill when Pam came into the backyard still in her bathing suit to tell me that they had returned. Sookie had taken her swimming at the little pool in our neighborhood, while Alexei and I went to play basketball. He'd hit another growth spurt and was anxious to see if that would finally help him in beating me; it didn't. Not yet. But he was getting stronger and faster and I was getting older and lazier, so my defeat was inevitable. Plus, Sookie was still trying to fatten me up from the few days (over a week ago) that I hadn't eaten.

After the game, I showered and started marinating the burgers. Alexei came into the room with his hand out—some of his friends were going to a movie, and I was still his ATM. I really needed that kid to get a job. Maybe I could talk to Barry about getting him to work at the new restaurant. Something. It would get him out of the house and his hand out of my wallet. And he'd have his car soon, so, if he passed his driver's test, he'd have transportation.

Kira, his not-girlfriend, picked him up from the house, and he promised that he'd be back by curfew. He'd only broken curfew twice, so I wasn't too worried about that.

I put the hamburgers onto a platter and carried them into the kitchen. And though it had only been a few hours since I had seen Sookie, I found myself searching around the house for her. It was frightening how quickly I'd grown accustomed to her sitting beside me at the dining room table or watching her shake her ass while she got ready to go out. Hell, I was even used to knocking over her shampoo bottle when I got into or out of the shower. And she'd only be here a week.

After checking the living room and library, I went to our room and found that she was just getting out of the shower, only a towel wrapped around her body. She smiled at me and it triggered mine. She made me happy. I took her in my arms, kissing her lips before trailing kisses across her bare shoulders—she smelled like sunshine and tanning oil.

"Did you have fun?" I asked, barely pulling away from her soft skin.

"Mmmm," she sighed quietly. "Yeah. I've missed tanning. Another week or so of this and I won't be so pasty."

"You're not pasty; you're perfect." She brought out my inner sap, made me quote lines that would have been more suitable for two-bit romantic-comedies. I had sworn to myself I'd never be _that guy_. But sometimes I acted like him.

"Oh, Eric, I'm already sleeping with you. What is flattery going to get you?" she teased.

"I was hoping anal," I teased back.

And she blushed bright red and tried to hide her face in my t-shirt, while I laughed and played with strands of her wet hair. It was too much fun to play with her. "It's going to take a hell of a lot more flattery than that," she murmured against my chest.

I decided to let that topic drop for now and pick it up again in bed.

"Dinner's ready whenever you are."

"Okay," she said, backing away from me to go to the closet where some of her clothes were hanging. She'd only brought over a few outfits and kept recycling them, not that I would have objected to her being naked all day. My dresser simply wasn't big enough for both of us; I was going to need to ask Pop-pop about getting another one. "I'll be out in a second. And make sure Pam washes her hair out or the chlorine—"

"Or the chlorine will turn it green," I interrupted. "I know. I've done this before."

She turned her head in my direction, but stared at my chest rather than my face. "Shit. I didn't mean…I didn't mean to imply that you didn't know."

I sighed, mad at myself. "No, I'm sorry. I know you didn't mean it that way. I shouldn't have snapped at you."

"Are you okay with me taking her tomorrow?" she asked, looking uncertain, a hanger teetering in her hand. "If you aren't ready for that yet, it's fine. We can hold off on me taking her to Gran's."

"I've never been away from her for that long," I replied, running my fingers through my hair. "Not since Sophie Anne gave her up." Did I think that Sookie could take care of Pam for three days? Absolutely. Did I think Pam would be okay being away that long? Yeah, I was sure she'd be fine, probably wouldn't even faze her.

Did I think I could handle it?

I'd thought I could. But the closer it got to Friday morning, the more anxious I became. They were leaving bright and early in the morning to head to Bon Temps for "girl time."

Like they didn't get enough of that.

"No, I'm fine. It's fine."

She closed the distance between us and wrapped her arms around my torso, pressing her cheek against my chest. "Don't lie. You're not. It's okay, Eric. I'll tell Gran I can't come this week, and we'll think of something to tell Pam."

"No. Pam's looking forward to it. And I'm not going to keep you away from time with your Gran." I could get over my pouty mood.

"What's going on in your head?" I sighed at her question. "Please."

"It's stupid." I'm mad because my daughter likes you more than me. It was fucking ridiculous; I was acting like a whiny seventh grade girl. I couldn't believe I was letting this get to me.

"It's bugging you. I need you to talk to me."

Tilting my head so that my face was pressed against her damp hair, I kissed the top of her forehead. I'd want her to tell me if I was in her place. "I've never…She's never been away from me for that long. And…and it's you." I heard her breath hitch. "Fuck. No. That's not what I meant. I'm envious, I guess. Pam lets you tuck her in and she talks to you and you're like her best friend. And I thought the whole being out of the loop about her life wasn't supposed to start until she was a teenager."

"You're jealous," she asked in disbelief, pulling back to look at me. The lines of her forehead creased even more when I nodded. "Really? Eric, do you even realize how much she loves you? Just last week she threatened to kick my ass if I hurt you. You're always going to be her first choice."

I shrugged.

"A few weeks ago you had to reassure her that your love didn't change because I was in your life. Does she need to do the same?"

"Sookie, I'm fine," I insisted.

"Take her out for ice cream or something after dinner. Actually, the snow cone stand on Texas Avenue just opened on Monday, the one in front of the movie place. Go have some daddy-daughter time. Seriously, Eric, I think it'd do you both some good. You've been working and with me a lot. She misses you."

I kissed the tip of her nose. "I will. Thank you." For not thinking I'm crazy. For not calling me irrational. For quick-thinking a temporary answer. For being amazing.

While we were sitting at the dinner table, I brought up getting a snow cone with Pam who seemed excited but was curious about why Sookie wasn't coming with us. Thankfully, she came up with some lie about packing, even though I knew she'd done it yesterday. She even offered to do the dishes so that we could leave right after dinner was done. Fuck, Sookie was incredible.

I took my time getting to the Sno Cone Shack (yes, it was missing a 'w'; I was just thankful that they hadn't done something horrible like taking the 'c' out of shack, because then I really would have boycotted) and actually drove the speed limit, asking her about her day and what she was reading and how she was doing. She ordered a pink bubble gum snow cone; I got a root beer one. Pam even suggested that we bring one back for Sookie, so I had her pick out a flavor she thought Sookie would like, knowing that, even if Sookie hated it, the thing only cost a few dollars and that buying it would please Pam to no end.

On the drive back, Pam spoke. "Not that this wasn't fun, Eric, but what was the point? You and I don't really do this sort of stuff. We aren't _those people_. This is more of a Sookie thing to do."

I smiled at her astuteness. My daughter. "You're right. It was her idea."

"But why? She doesn't want to spend time with me?"

"No, that's not it at all. I wanted to spend time with you before you go away this weekend to stay at Gran's house." She'd told me to call her Adele, but everyone else in the family called her Gran. I wasn't sure which one I was supposed to use.

I watched her in the rear view mirror. She really didn't look all that like Sophie Anne. Maybe her lips. Or her nose. Mostly though, she looked like me—same eyes, same hair, she was even tall for her age. I still didn't know where her intelligence came from; I did fine, and Alexei was smart enough to exploit the school system. But Pam, she was something else entirely, on a completely different level. She was gifted.

And a gift.

"Did you think I wouldn't be able to handle it?" she asked, staring back at me. I glanced away at the road, before looking back.

"No, I'm sure you can. Not too sure I can."

She snorted. "Eric, you are a grown man. You can cook and do laundry and bathe yourself. You don't need me there." I laughed at that.

"But who will supply me with my daily dose of snark?"

"Alexei will just have to step up his game." Pam smiled, her stained lips spreading. "Oh, who am I kidding? That boy is hopeless. I'll just have to call you every day to make sure you don't die from Lex's sense of humor, or lack thereof."

"Yeah, you should do that," I said, feeling a little better about everything.

She asked me to tuck her in at bedtime and read her a few pages from the book Sookie had gotten her. I'd forgotten how much I loved to do that. I'd been working a lot since they got out of school. Barry wanted me to invest in some commercial property and I had to call my accountant to see how my funds were settling. And I was trying to teach Dawson how to be me for a week, so that he could run Glasir while I was away without needing to call me every five minute for direction. That had happened with Chow last year, and I wasn't keen on reliving the experience.

Spending evenings at Glasir meant that I'd missed her bedtime every night this week, but I took the entire day off since it was our last together before Sookie and Pam left. And I didn't regret it in the slightest.

"Good night, Pam."

"Good night, Eric. Don't miss me too much when I'm gone."

I nodded. "I'll try. But if you miss me, even a little bit, you can call me and I'll answer. Whenever."

"I know, Dad," she replied. "I love you."

"I love you, my child. Always. Continuously. Unchanging."

"Stop," she said, wiggling around.

I ran my fingers through my hair. "No. I don't say it enough," I replied.

"You say it all the time."

"Yeah, but I don't know that you understand." I pulled her from underneath the covers and into my lap, turning her so that she was looking at me. "We never talk about your mother, and if there is anything you ever want to know you can always ask me, but…god, I can't even explain it properly. You're my world. I love you. Just…I love you."

"Is someone dying? God, is someone dead?" I shook my head. "Then, I don't get it. What was the point of all that?"

I should have known she wouldn't be able to comprehend. How could she? How could she possibly understand how much I loved her?

"I don't want you to ever doubt it."

She looked at me suspiciously. "I don't. Are you going to do something to make me doubt it?"

"I hope not."

"You're being weird tonight."

"Sorry," I replied, tucking her back in, wrapping the covers around her tiny frame. And then I kissed the top of her head. "Good night, Pam. I'll see you in the morning."

When I got back to our room, Sookie was sitting with her back against the headboard reading _Slaughterhouse Five_. I sat down next to her and pulled my highlighted and dog-eared copy from the bedside table and started reading too. I could see her glancing at me out of the corner of her eye like she was waiting for me to say or do something.

"You were right. I needed to do that."

She kissed my cheek. "Do you feel better?" I replied that I did and it was true. For now. I was sure my jealous nature would rear its head again, but, right then, yeah, I was okay. "Good. Now are you going to put on your glasses? You know you need them to read."

Sookie had this perverse obsession with my old, bent and scratched reading glasses. I hated the fucking things, even if they did help me to see better and didn't strain my eyes as much. They were ugly, and I was vain. I only wore them at home, but now Sookie lived at home, and I hated to be seen in them. I'd avoided wearing them for the entire time she'd been here, but it didn't look like that was going to hold.

"Nope. I'm fine."

"Eric, don't be stubborn. You'll ruin your eyes."

"I'm stubborn?" She nodded and tried to reach past me where my glasses were resting on the table. I pulled her into my lap, capturing both of her hands, and finding that I didn't like the idea of holding her captive. I wanted her to want to come to me. I released them just as quickly and looked at her, blonde hair ruffled by fingers and naturally pink lips begging to be kissed and summer sky blue eyes staring back at me. God, she was beautiful.

"What?" she asked, wiggling a little bit. I shook my head, but she just pouted out her bottom lip. "Tell me why you were making that face. You do that a lot. I always wonder."

"I love you."

"I love you too." She wrinkled her nose and laughed. "That's your 'I love you' face?"

"What's wrong with it?" I asked, feeling as self-conscious as if I was wearing those fucking Moscot glasses.

"Nothing. I love all of your faces," she laughed again, cupping my cheeks. "I'm going to miss you this weekend."

"Me too."

"You're going to eat while I'm gone, right? And sleep?" She wasn't going to get over that for a long time. I nodded. "Good. I worry."

"Don't. As my daughter reminded me, I'm a grown man. I can take care of myself."

She cocked her head to the side. "I know you can, I just don't know if you will."

"I will," I promised.

Last week was different. Bad. I didn't…I didn't handle it well. Every time I fell asleep, I'd wake up a few minutes later in a panic, feeling like I was missing something, that something had been taken from me. I'd have to go check Pam's and Alexei's rooms to make sure they were both there and still safe. Sleep eluded me, and trying to eat with only, maybe, fifteen minutes of sleep under my belt made me nauseated. And puking Fruit Loops isn't nearly as much fun as it sounds. It just became easier to not eat at all.

I survived that week on black coffee and the jellybeans I kept in my office for Pam.

Sookie's index finger drew a line down the center of my forehead to the tip of my nose, tracing my lips, her eyes following the silent journey before returning to mine. "Make love to me."

I took my time, mesmerized, trying to bring pleasure to every inch of her. With kisses. And caresses. And then I tasted her on my tongue and lips, on my fingers and face. Watching her cum was easily the most beautiful thing I had ever seen. Paintings, film, sunsets paled in comparison to her lust-filled gaze and swollen parted lips as she let the orgasm rush through her.

Then I was inside, her tight, wet heat surrounding me, clenching me with every slow, deep thrust. The way my body reacted to her was unfathomable. Mere seconds after she came, those eyes aimed like missiles at mine, I followed her, burying my face in her shoulder. I knew I must have felt like dead weight on her, but I couldn't feel my extremities or coax them to function, so I stayed put. Our chests pushed against one another, fighting over the free air, while her fingers combed through my sweaty hair.

The second I could move, I rolled to my side of the bed and pulled her along next to me, kissing the top of her head. She murmured something that I didn't understand, so I pushed her hair out of her face and asked her to repeat herself. "Put on your glasses."

"Why?"

"We have sex. We're in love. We live together. Why wouldn't you wear them? What are you waiting on? And don't say anal." I chuckled.

"I just don't like them."

"But I love them. Wear them for me." She pouted out her bottom lip. And I couldn't say no.

"Fine." I pulled the stupid things from the bedside table, unfolded the black frames, and put them on my face. I hated the way I felt self-conscious in them.

Sookie kissed my cheek. "Will you hand me my copy?" She pointed to her book, and I handed it to her.

We read side-by-side for another hour before her eyes began to droop. I placed our books on the table, turned off the lamp, and pulled Sookie's body to mine.

"Good night," she whispered.

"Sleep well, dear one."

The next morning I saw Sookie and Pam off—Alexei couldn't be bothered to get out of bed for fifteen minutes—before going into Glasir for the day. Dawson was a pretty quick learner and he was able to think on his feet, always a plus. It was still a few weeks until we went to visit my grandparents, but I was starting to feel more secure about leaving him in charge.

Alexei and I ordered pizza for dinner, because neither of us was in the mood to cook. We played his PS3 for a while, and he kept asking me about his car but I knew how to keep a secret. He'd find out soon enough.

I tried asking him about Kira, but he wouldn't say anything other than "she's cool" and "we're just hanging out." She seemed decent enough the few times I met her. She went to Caddo Prep, so her parents either had the money to send her or she was smart enough to be there on scholarship, though, from that flashy Audi she drove, I'd wager it was the former. He had never missed curfew with her. And he hadn't shown up at home high, though there was the issue of his fake ID. It had been confiscated and his room raided for other stashes of alcohol. He had been less than thrilled.

I went out for a jog when the sun went down, just a short mile run, and then I came back to the house and showered. I finished up Vonnegut, talked to Sookie on the phone, and went to bed, falling asleep faster than I thought I would without her beside me. But I sat up in bed around three, wondering what had awakened me. And then I heard it. Knocking on my bedroom door.

That soft, uncertain knocking that I had heard too many times in the past six years.

I quickly climbed out of bed, turning the lamp on, and opened my door to see him standing there looking like hell. "Come on," I said, letting him in. His feet shuffled forward, his neck pointing his face at the floor. His whole posture screamed defeated, and I hated it. We'd gone six months—or at least he hadn't had to come to me in six months. I should have known we'd have trouble again because his birthday was coming up; that's always when they hit him the worst.

I put my hand at the nape of his neck and rubbed circles into the tense muscles, his head still lolling forward. "Is this the first one?" I asked. He barely shook his head. "How many?"

"One last night."

"Shit, Lex. Why didn't you tell me?" At least it had only been one other. We'd dealt with them together since he moved in. I'd thought that he trusted me with them. I had them too on occasion, not as bad as his, but still.

"You were with Sookie," he said quietly. "And I'm not sure I want her to know about them yet."

"You could have told me. Last night. Today." I ran my fingers through my hair. "Fuck. Are you okay?"

"I'm fine."

"Sit down. I'll go get your pillow." I ran back up to Alexei's room and got his pillow. Then, I was right back down the stairs and in my room. He was curled into a ball underneath the covers when I returned.

The nightmares always did a number on him—he probably wouldn't sleep again tonight. When he first moved in they were even worse, occurred almost every night. After going to therapy, they decreased a lot, but he usually still got them around his birthday. That's when our dad would go from being mean and negligent to…awful. Violent. Scary. He'd turn into a mean motherfucker. Lex still couldn't talk to me about what happened after I left, and I still blamed myself for that. I never knew exactly how bad it had gotten for him, but if the nightmares were any indication…

I lifted his head to place the pillow beneath it. I crawled into bed, leaving the lamp on, knowing that he preferred the light when he was like this.

Neither of us slept that night, which made me thankful that I wasn't going into work on Saturday until late in the afternoon. I had a migraine so bad that day that it was like all the fun of having a hangover without the pesky problem of having to drink. We went out to breakfast at this greasy little diner not far from Glasir. I drank lots of coffee, but Lex mostly pushed his food around. I knew I'd have to watch him and make sure he ate.

He insisted he was fine when I had to leave to go to Glasir. And, even though I didn't want to, I agreed that he could stay home alone. I couldn't focus on work all evening because my mind was trying to kill itself. Between Sookie and Pam being in Bon Temps and Alexei having nightmares, I couldn't even pretend to be paying attention to the inventory reports that I needed to adjust or the stack of applications I needed to look through to find yet another new bartender.

I was thankful when 2 AM came and I could leave. The drive back was quick. I zipped along the streets, passing cars and doing many illegal things to get home to see if Lex was okay. Just as I pulled into the driveway, my phone rang.

Sookie.

And I felt a knot form in my stomach.

"What's wrong?" I asked. She wouldn't just call this late without something being wrong. Very wrong.

"I need you to come to Bon Temps. Tonight." Her voice sounded strange. Far away.

"Sookie, what is happening?" I asked again, leaving the car running, but jumping out to bang on the door. Lex opened it a few seconds later with a groggy expression on his face. I pulled him to the car though he was only partially dressed. "Sookie?"

"Eric, the cops are going to be here soon. Just, please, hurry."

"What the fuck is going on?" I tried again, strapping Alexei in since he was too out of it to do it himself.

In the background, I heard Pam shriek. "Oh my god, Sookie. Is he dead? I was joking about the whole kill him and bury him thing."

What the fuck?

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A/N: No need to yell at me. I will update quickly, as you are all aware. Well, maybe not the people who just added this to story alert (hello, newbies). But I will. Other than that, thoughts?


	26. Kiss Kiss Bang Bang

A/N: I've never had so many reviews where the main word was "OMG." Haha. Chapter 25 has easily been the most reviewed chapter so far. I loved hearing all of your crazy conspiracy theories about what happened. Just a hint-there was no frying pan involved. I can't think of one individual person to thank, so I'm going to thank everyone that has been reading. You all are an incredible bunch, and I love to write for you.

Disclaimer: Not mine. But you already knew that.

* * *

He hugged her tightly, her feet dangling in the air, and kissed top of her head the same exact way that he always did, whispering in her ear. Even though I already knew their secret. He was so cute with Pam that it made my uterus send the image of him teaching a child to walk to my brain. And like the masochist it is, my brain played it on repeat until he let her down.

"Have fun," he told her, patting the top of her head softly.

"I will, Eric."

Then he put his arms around my hips and his forehead on mine. "Drive safely. Have fun. And tell Adele hello for me."

I smiled. Gran liked Eric a lot. She'd been thrilled when I let her know that I had indeed moved in with him. She'd even insisted on talking to him on the phone. He went into the library to talk to her, so I didn't get to even hear one side of the conversation, but he came out smiling and laughing, claiming that Gran had told him "tricks for dealing with" me.

"She'll be thrilled you said hello. We'll be back Sunday night."

I didn't want to nag him about eating and sleeping, but I was worried. Things were different this time. We both knew where the other stood, and we both knew at the end of this little trip, I'd be right back in our bed curled up next to him. But I was still worried.

I knew he was anxious about being away from both me and Pam, but I'd done my best to reassure him that everything would be fine. Bon Temps was a quiet little town. We'd bake with Gran and watch old movies. We'd probably be bored stiff after a day or two.

He kissed me until Pam started making gagging noises. "Good bye, my dear one."

"Bye. Love you."

"I love you," he replied, finally releasing me.

In the car, I turned on the playlist Pam and I had co-created; since the drive to Bon Temps was about an hour, each of us got to pick as many songs as we wanted to add up to thirty minutes. She'd added hers first, so she didn't know what I had chosen—mostly fun music that was easy to sing along to. About halfway through "Have You Ever Seen The Rain?" Pam asked me who we were listening to.

"Creedence Clearwater Revival." I glanced in the rearview mirror and she was shaking her head. "Are you telling me you've never heard of CCR? That's practically a punishable offense. I'm going to have to give your father a talking to."

"He's been weird lately," she replied.

"He has a lot on his plate with work and me moving in and Alexei's birthday and our trip to your great-grandparent's house." He was stressed; it was easy to see.

She shrugged. "I guess. But what was up with him yesterday?"

I sighed. "You won't tell him I told you?" Pam promised that she wouldn't. I didn't think it was really a secret, and I hoped that if she knew then she'd help in reassuring him. "He's jealous, thinks that you like me more than him. I told him that's ridiculous. Eric's your dad."

She was quiet in the backseat for a few minutes, the song changing. "I feel like I'm being asked to choose a favorite book." I smiled at her analogy.

"You're not being asked to choose anything. We both love you and want what's best for you. Our relationship is completely different from what you have with Eric. They don't have to compete or compare. But maybe you can remember to be sweet to him; he needs you to cuddle with him and say you love him a lot."

"He's so needy," she replied, but she was smiling. "He's so lucky to have us."

I laughed and nodded. "And we're lucky to have him."

Pam snorted. "You had to go and ruin it by being mushy."

Gran met us at the back door and went straight for Pam, hugging her and offering her bacon and eggs. Talk about jealousy. They chatted away while I put the bags in my room—the upstairs was probably too hot by now, but it would be up to Pam where she slept. Then I went to the kitchen for the remnants of breakfast. Finally after Pam had told her all about finishing up school and how her summer was going, Gran finally acknowledged me.

"How are things going with you, sweetie?"

I nibbled a bit on the crust of my toast. "Things are great. I'm still adjusting to everyone's routines and dynamics, but, yeah, I'm great."

Though I'd been worried about how Pam and Alexei would deal with me being in the house, I hadn't had any difficulties. I ran errands or met with people in the morning. Eric was usually there until mid-afternoon, which was when Alexei was just waking up. He'd eat a sandwich or Hot Pockets of Ramen, and then be hungry again when I made dinner. I started having Pam help me cook 1) because she wanted to know how and 2) because unlike adults who each cook their own way, Pam was still young enough that she followed my directions exactly. I never had to worry that she'd add garlic or something because she thought it needed something to make it pop. Sometimes Alexei went out, but when he didn't we'd play games or watch TV or sit outside together.

Since Eric was gone when Pam went to bed, I'd read to her from _Little Women_ and tuck her in at night. If Lex was around, we'd talk or do something. He was actually pretty cool to be around when he wasn't making comments about my legs. He was smart. Quick. He liked to reply without thinking, which always made our conversations interesting. We usually talked about dumb stuff—pop culture and entertainment—but every once in a while he would mention something about when he was younger. It was usually just a hint ("Eric plays classical music when I've had a really bad night" or "We don't sing 'Happy Birthday'") and it always made me want to ask, but I didn't. I knew that if or when he was ready, he'd tell me.

Pam and Gran decided to make blueberry crisp for the church's bingo night, so I was elected to go to Walmart and pick up more oats and brown sugar so that it would be done in time. The church did a bingo night once a month, and Gran and I always used to go together, even in high school when no other teenager would have been caught dead there. I'd always had fun. At Walmart, I saw Tara and asked her if she would be there tonight. She said she didn't know because she and JB were supposed to go to a club in Monroe; I hadn't known she was seeing him. I really needed to make more of an effort of staying involved with everyone back home, even if I was here once a month. That didn't really keep me current.

Friday was a pretty lazy day. They made blueberry crisp, while I sorted through some of my old stuff that I couldn't bear to get rid of when I left for college. A bunch of my old books were in a milk crate in my closet, along with my Skip-It and knock-off Cabbage Patch doll. I figured it was about time to get rid of them; I turned twenty-six in the fall. What use did I have for childish toys?

Pam, however, loved my hot pink Skip-It. Gran wouldn't let her play with it inside, so while I was outside tanning, she skipped on the front porch. She hated that I made her put on sunscreen, even called me a hypocrite, but I wouldn't back down. I wanted to show Eric I could take care of her, and Pam coming back bright red would not help that. She finally relented, though not without a lot of huffing and pouting.

At bingo, Gran sat next to Maxine Fortenberry and listened to that old biddy gossip like it was her favorite thing to do in life. I really didn't know how Gran put up with it. She was so loud that Lettie Mae Thornton turned around and hushed her. For a few brief seconds, Pam and I watched with bated breath, praying that a fight would break out, but it didn't. Before the most epic battle ever could happen, little Ada du Rone handed both of them a slice of her double chocolate chunk cheesecake. And after that, everything was easy peasy, mellow.

Pam made a face. She'd wanted the drama to erupt as much as I had. And though it wasn't pie, Ada's dessert was enough to make Maxine finally shut her pie hole.

Pam fell asleep on the drive back to Gran's house, so I carried her to my bed. Then, I sat on the porch outside and called Eric. He seemed to be doing okay, told me all about what he and Alexei had been doing. Pizza. Video games. Talking about hot chicks. Guy stuff.

"How's Pam?"

"She's fine," I replied. "She's asleep right now. How are you?"

"Finished up the book, so you're going to have to hurry up so that we can start the next one." Since he and I had pretty similar taste in books, we'd agreed to read the same book at the same time so that we could discuss them while they were fresh in our minds. We started with _Winesburg, Ohio_. And now we were on _Slaughterhouse Five._

I sighed into the phone. "I'll have it done before I get home on Sunday."

"I love that."

"You love what?"

"When you call it home," he said with a yawn.

"Sleep, Eric. We can talk later."

He sighed quietly, the way he always did when he was trying to stay awake. Like he was trying to trick me, because it wasn't a real yawn. "I miss you guys. The house seems quiet. I don't like it."

"I miss you too. We'll be back soon. Try to have fun."

"I will. Good night, dear one."

"Night, Mr. Northman." He hmmm-ed happily and finally hung up so that he could, hopefully, get a good night's sleep. He deserved it. Eric was dealing with so much that he didn't really need to add insomnia to the list.

Gran and I talked for a little bit, but I went to bed pretty early too.

Saturday was pretty similar to Friday—a lot of laziness and a lot of cooking. Despite Eric's command not to bake him a cake for Father's Day, Pam insisted that that's still what she wanted to do. She said it was tradition, and you can't break tradition. They made him one every year, regardless of how burnt it was or awful it tasted. And she wanted me to teach her how to make one correctly. Her puppy dog eyes were too much like Eric's for me to resist.

We started baking the cake after lunch—one of Gran's recipes for chocolate cake. Pam studied me as I added ingredients to the bowl, glancing from me to recipe card back to me. She'd comment on how much flour I was using or that I wasn't measuring accurately, and I'd have to explain to her that the recipe wasn't meant to be followed exactly. It allowed a little wiggle room. She didn't seem to like that.

She was in one of her analytical moods and there was nothing I could do about that.

Jason and Amy, his new girlfriend, came over for dinner on Saturday night. She seemed smarter than most of the girls he usually dated. And I didn't know if I should be frightened or impressed by that. I guess only time would tell. I prayed it was a sign that Jason was finally growing up and was going to start picking responsible, educated women.

Pam and I watched _Singing in the Rain_ together until she fell asleep with her head in my lap. Once again, I carried her to bed and tucked her in. Then, I went and took a shower, washing all the grime and sweat from the hot day off of my skin, but it just made me long for Eric's shower. His was so much nicer. Especially when he was in it with me.

I swear Eric was turning me into a sex addict or something. Before him, I'd never needed to get off so many times in a given week. But even thinking about him made me horny. I used all of the hot water in pursuit of my release and fell into bed a slightly happier woman.

In a perfect world, that would have been the end of it. I would have gone to bed and woke up on Sunday morning bright eyed, bushy-tailed, and refreshed, anxious to see Eric. But I didn't live in a perfect world. I lived in a world where my ex is a complete psychopath and tried to break in to the house.

I woke up with the feeling that something was wrong. I couldn't explain it, but I could feel it. In the pit of my stomach. I climbed out of bed when I couldn't take the creepy crawlies anymore, and started heading to the kitchen for a glass of water.

I heard the sound of someone trying to force the back door and ran back to my room for my cell phone. I called 911 and said that someone was trying to break in. But I knew it would take them at least fifteen minutes to get here because it was the middle of the night and Bon Temps wasn't known for its speedy police work. Thank the lord for the South and its lax gun laws. I crept to the coat closet and pulled out the shotgun that Jason kept there for "safe keeping," because, of course, the safest place for a gun is right next to the umbrella and last winter's heavy jacket.

I pulled out the gun and made sure it was loaded and the safety was off. I could still hear someone jimmying the lock when Pam snuck up behind me, scaring the bejeezus out of me. She whispered loudly, "Sookie, what's going on?"

I jumped and turned to face her. "Shit, Pam. Go back to my room, close the door, and do not open it until I tell you." She stood there for a few seconds staring at me. "Get your ass in that room right now."

"You're worse than Eric," she said as she shuffled away. I listened to the click of my bedroom door, and then, seconds later, the sound of the back door lock finally giving way.

The gun was vibrating in my hands, and my heart was racing. I stood in the living room with the gun pointed at the doorway. If anyone came in, they'd have to pass through the doorway to get to the rest of the house. And then, when he did, my hands were shaking so much that I was sure I'd miss.

"What the fuck are you doing here, Bill?" It didn't even sound like my own voice. There was no confidence, no fear, no urgency. Nothing. Just a voice.

He smiled cordially at me. "Sookie. It's been too long."

"The cops are on their way, Bill. The restraining order is in effect. You broke in. You don't want to be here when the cops arrive." They wouldn't get here soon enough. A house with 3 women, one a senior citizen, one not even a woman yet. And me.

Bill just took another step forward, his smile never faltering or fading. "Oh, we won't be here whenever Kenya and Kevin finally show. We'll be halfway to New Orleans by then, continuing our life together, Sookie. It'll be marvelous." He stepped toward me again..

"Stop. Don't come any closer."

He chuckled. "Oh, Sookie, you can't even smash a spider without getting teary-eyed. Do you really expect me to believe that you'd shoot me? Come on, Sookie, no need to play coy. Stop pretending like you don't want to be with me. We both know that isn't the case." He was completely off his rocker. But what it sound all the more scary was that he seemed to honestly believe the shit he spewing.

The Sookie that Bill dated probably wouldn't have been able to. But Eric's Sookie, she was stronger than that. She would protect herself, protect Pam and Gran.

I wasn't going to go with him. And I wasn't going to let that fucker take me.

"Bill, I'm asking you one last time to leave," I said as confidently as I could. It was probably as intimidating as a baby kitten. .A baby kitten with a shotgun.

But that pasty bastard kept walking, kept closing the distance between us. And there was no way the cops would get here in time. Bill was stronger than me, and even if I kicked and bit and clawed, he'd still be able to get me into his car and drive away before anyone had any idea. I had to stop him. I had to, consequences be damned. I wouldn't let him take me. And I didn't even want to think about what he might try to do to Pam if he discovered she was here.

He hated her.

So with still shaky hands, I took a deep and aimed over his shoulder, hoping it'd be enough to scare him, enough to get him to leave.

But my aim sucked and I actually shot him. I don't know which scared me more—the bang of the gun or him falling to the floor. Perhaps it was seeing blood soaking through his shirt. Shit. Shit shit. Fuck. Damn. I dropped the gun to the floor and felt my knees give out under me.

What did I do?

What had I done?

I pulled my cell phone out of my pocket and dialed 911 again, telling them to send an ambulance. The lady, whatever the fuck she said her name was, tried to keep me on the line, but I hung up and called Eric. I needed Eric right now.

He answered almost immediately.

"What's wrong?"

"I need you to come to Bon Temps. Tonight."

"Sookie, what is happening?" he asked. I tried to put into words what had happened but failed. Nothing was happening. I couldn't even describe what had just happened. I put my hand to my face and realized that my lips were moving, but no sound was coming out. "Sookie?"

His voice jarred me back from the brink of hysteria. "Eric, the cops are going to be here soon. Just, please, hurry."

"What the fuck is going on?"

I opened my mouth to answer him, but heard the bedroom door open. Pam walked into the room and stared at Bill. "Oh my god, Sookie. Is he dead? I was joking about the whole kill him and bury him thing."

And though it was completely the wrong reaction, I started laughing. I laughed and laughed until it turned into tears. Tears that didn't just blur my vision, but blinded me.

At some point, Gran showed up and took the phone from me, me who couldn't answer any of the questions Eric was demanding answers to, me who was sitting on a shotgun, me who was the reason why there was a man bleeding on the floor maybe seven feet away.

At some point after that, Andy showed up, the paramedics arriving at the same time. People kept talking to me. Asking things. Lips moving. But the sound never reached my ears. Everything had the eerie look of a dream, but was way too real. I felt too present, like I was drowning in reality and I couldn't escape. It was tickling at my skin, taunting me.

And then at some point after that, Eric arrived, stepping over the pool of blood that had to be cleaned up, pushing Andy and some other faceless cop out of the way and picked me up off the floor. I hadn't moved in so long that my muscles screamed in protest of the new position. He cradled me in his arms and I latched onto him, a feeling of security rushing into me as if someone had turned on the spicket.

"Look at me," he said in that commanding, boss voice of his, and I obeyed as if my life depended on it. "I'm here. Okay? I have you. You're safe. Pam's safe. Gran's safe."

I nodded.

"You need to talk to the detectives and tell them what happened. Can you do that for me?" I nodded again. "Good girl." Eric pushed past the detectives a second time and sat down in the recliner, depositing me in his lap but never really changing his grip.

"I woke up. And I heard someone trying to break into the back door." I took a deep breath, my brain flashing back to the scene. I tried to mentally erase it before I lost it again. "I called you guys first and then I got the gun."

Andy interrupted here, pointing to the shotgun. "This gun here."

"No the Uzi in my back pocket. Yes, that gun."

Eric chuckled, but said, "He's only doing his job. Be nice." I rolled my eyes at him, which just made him laugh more. I was worried he was going off the deep end. I hear stress can do that to you.

"So, yeah, I got _that gun_ and made sure it was good to go in case I needed it. And then Pam woke up, so I sent her back to my room."

Andy interrupted again, and I had to force myself to be nice. "Pam is the little girl?" I looked around the room, but didn't see Pam.

Where did she go?

Was she okay?

Eric patted my leg gently. "She's fine. She and Alexei are in Gran's room." I hadn't even seen Lex come in. Fuck.

"Yeah, Pam is Eric's daughter. Anyway, um, Bill finally got in. He said that he came to take me with him. To New Orleans. I told him that I'd called you guys, but he said he could get me halfway there before you even showed up at the house." I let out a deep breath and realized that my eyes had glazed over, that I hadn't been looking at anything.

"I warned him. I told him to leave. I told him I'd shoot him. But he wasn't going to give up. I saw it in his eye. He wasn't going to stop. I didn't mean to shoot him. I meant it to be a warning shot, to show him that I was serious."

And then I started laughing again, but not like real laughter. I knew that the tears were only seconds away.

"You didn't kill him," the nameless, faceless cop decided to tell me. "He's going to pull through according to the paramedics."

And I really did start crying then. Again. I wasn't sure if I was happy that he wasn't dead or sad, which didn't help to keep me in control. Part of me really wanted him to die, to be gone from my life forever. Because he kept fucking things up and it'd all be so much easier if he was dead. The other part of me wasn't sure if I would have been able to handle the knowledge that someone had died at me hand. Even someone as fucktarded as Bill.

Eric pulled me tighter to his chest, letting me soak his t-shirt with tears. His fingers stroked my head, lulling me into a sense of calm. I didn't know how he did that. How he oozed the notion of safety, of security. How he could make me almost believe that nothing bad could happen if I stayed in his arms.

"We have a protective order against Bill Compton. It went into effect on Monday morning, and he was well-aware of that fact. I have my lawyer and the judge who authorized it on speed dial, if you'd like to speak with them."

Andy grunted at Eric. "Give me their numbers and I can talk to them at a more reasonable hour."

"Yes, detective. I just wanted to make sure you knew to add another charge on top of breaking and entering and attempted kidnapping."

Andy did not like Eric telling him what to do, but I found the whole thing hilarious—of course, I was pretty sure I was a few fries short of a happy meal at this point—all of the alpha male posturing. Poor Andy didn't stand a chance against Eric.

"Is there anything else you need her for tonight, or can she come in and talk to you all tomorrow morning? She's had a rough night."

"Almost killing a guy will do that to you," nameless peon said. And Eric growled at him, literally growled. It was so fucking hot. My libido shouldn't have been in overdrive after everything that had happened. But it was.

Andy stepped in. "You can bring her in tomorrow anytime. Just don't leave town without talking to us first to make sure everything's squared away on your end." I waved my hand to signal that I'd heard him. Also, as a sign for him to leave. I was sick and tired of Andy Bellefleur. He was difficult enough to handle in small doses on Sunday mornings at church or Friday nights at Merlotte's. Dealing with him on top of thinking I'd killed Bill was not the highlight of my year.

I had hoped the arriving officer would be Kevin. He was a sweetheart.

After they left, I kept staring at the blood stain on the living room rug and couldn't stop the urge to try and clean it up. I tried to stand up, but Eric just pulled me back down. "Where do you think you're going?"

I pointed. "It's going to stain."

He snorted. "I'll take care of it."

"I don't want you buying a new one," I told him.

"I wasn't planning on it," he replied. I stared up at his face trying to coax the words out of him. "I'll clean it after I get you to sleep. Whenever that may be."

"No, Eric. It's my mess. I should be the one to clean it up."

"Sookie, do you realize how ridiculous that is? Your mess? That's Bill's fucking mess on the carpet. On your skin. Your clothes." I looked down at myself and noticed for the first time that flicks of dried blood were splattered across me. Fuck. "I almost wish you'd killed him. He'd have deserved that. He deserves so much worse than that."

I couldn't disagree with him because I felt the same way.

Gran came into the room, Lex and Pam trailing along like zombies behind her. "Pam's going to stay with me tonight. It's too hot to be upstairs, so Alexei said that he can sleep on the floor of whichever room he needs to."

I was about to answer, but Eric beat me to it. "He can stay in our room." They shared a look and Alexei nodded; he wasn't wearing a t-shirt, only jeans, which seemed odd, but maybe they'd left in a hurry. I didn't mind if he stayed with us, but it did make me curious as to what was really going on.

Because my brain really needed more to think about.

Gran and Pam went to her room. And Lex found a big stack of old quilts to sleep on. And Eric took me into the bathroom, setting me on the counter and erasing the blood from my skin with a washcloth and warm soapy water. My arms. My legs. My face. Then he pulled off my spaghetti strap night shirt and dropped it to the floor. After that, he pulled of my little shorts, leaving me only in my panties. He cleaned my chest and thighs, where spots of blood had soaked through my clothes.

When I was cleaned to his liking, he pulled off his white t-shirt and put it on me, baptizing me in his scent. His hands cupped my face, and he rest his forehead against mine. And he just breathed. It felt like this was a huge moment where something monumental was supposed to be said to change everything.

But we were both quiet. I listened to his breathing, my constant. I couldn't describe how much joy I got from just Eric's breathing. The rise and fall of his chest, like the sea ebbing and flowing, was what lulled me to sleep every night in his arms. His breath on my neck was one of my favorite memories of our first meeting.

"I love you."

That was it. That was all either of us ever needed to say to the other. Fancy or colorful adjectives declaring the other's admirable qualities worked for some other people. But when I said I love you, or he did, I put weight in that, stock in that. Our 'I love you' was more of a promise than a statement of fact.

"I love you too."

At least, that's how it felt to me.

"Let's go to bed."

Alexei was curled up in a little ball on the floor, looking tense, and I knew for sure that there was something more going on. I walked over to where he lay and crouched down, thanking the lord that Eric was tall and that his shirt went down to my knees. I rubbed the back of Alexei's neck and kissed his temple.

"Good night, Lex."

"Night," he replied quietly.

I climbed into bed and Eric's protective arms, tucking myself into his chest, his chin resting on the top of my head. And I listened. Until my eyelids got too heavy and I succumbed to sleep.

* * *

A/N: Yeah. So, what'd you think?


	27. Sing Me To Sleep

A/N: There were many strong opinions on Bill's death-more that he should be dead.

This chapter's for kgmoll. I really hope that I don't make you cry.

Disclaimer: CH owns SVM.

* * *

I gasped out, sitting up in bed, my chest straining with the effort of each breath. Panic. It was a dream. It was all a bad dream. I combed my fingers through my hair, trying to get my heart rate out of the red zone.

It was a dream; it couldn't hurt me.

"Sookie," a voice asked in the darkness. Seconds later he had crawled across the room and was kneeling at my side of the bed. "Are you okay?" His eyes glowed, reflecting the moonlight that was peeking through the old, flimsy curtains.

"I'm fine, Lex. Just a nightmare." My voice didn't sound nearly as confident as I wanted it to, since I was struggling to get my breathing under control. His eyes slid to Eric, who was still sleeping with the sheet thrown over his face, trying to block out the world. This stress was not good for him, and tonight hadn't done him any favors. He had too much going on. He needed a break. "Do you know if he slept last night?" I asked.

He got this weird look on his face, guilt maybe, and gulped. "He got a little bit, a few hours maybe."

Shit. "He promised me he was going to—"

"Don't blame him," Lex interrupted. "It was my fault that he didn't sleep." What? Was it whatever was going on with him? Had he been sick? Or maybe something happened with Kira? Maybe they broke up? He seemed off, not like himself. "I…I…"

"It's okay. You don't have to."

His gaze fell to the floor, almost like he was embarrassed. Or nervous. He was all over the place tonight, unable to hide his emotions. "I know you don't want to wake Eric, but he's really good with nightmares." Eric had said that Pam used to get nightmares, but she'd only had one recently that I knew of. Maybe they weren't as bad anymore.

I really didn't want to wake him.

"I'm fine. I think I'm just going to get a glass of water," Two part cure: rewet my throat and get my mind off of the bad dream where Bill had actually succeeded in taking me. I climbed out of bed and Lex followed me, which made me wish that I had put on shorts or pants or something. Eric's shirt was white and not that thick; it was probably see-through. And flashing Lex was not in my to-do list.

We had to walk through the living room, past the blood-stained rug. When we got close, my entire body screamed no. My eyes clenched and my legs stopped propelling me forward. Lex slung his arm around my shoulders. "Two little steps," he said in his confident voice. I followed his instruction. "Okay now, one huge step and then five regular steps."

I let him lead me until my feet felt the familiar floor of the kitchen. I couldn't even recall how many times I'd walked into the room barefooted to greet Gran or eat breakfast; it took my mind to happier memories. I went to the cabinet and retrieved two glasses, filling them with tap water, while Alexei sat down at the table.

I placed his glass in front of him as I sat. "Why aren't you sleeping?"

He stiffened. "Can't sleep." But the way he said it wasn't like he had insomnia. It was more like when someone gets a concussion and they aren't allowed to go to sleep, like something bad would happen to him if he succumbed to the sandman.

I sipped at l'eau de Bon Temp; Alexei stared at his like I had poured anti-freeze in it. Call it transference or whatever, but I was worried about him. Really worried. My problems were in a Monroe hospital bed. I didn't know where he was keeping his.

"Lex, you know you can tell me anything. I'm not trying to be your…I'm just…We're friends, and so if you ever want to…you can."

He nodded. "I know."

We sat at the table mostly in silence as we watched the inky night fade into navy, and then the orange sun started to rise as fluidly as if pulled. And in the morning light, I studied Alexei's face, while silently praying that mine didn't look the same—bloodshot eyes, purple bags, pallid skin. I probably looked worse. At least he didn't have blood in his hair.

"Let's make breakfast."

Because of working with Pam, and Eric on occasion, I was getting over my whole no cooking with other people thing. And Alexei was actually a pretty good cook. He surprised me by being able to make sausage gravy that tasted almost as good Gran's. When I asked him about it, he said that Eric had taught him and that Nana (I guessed that was his grandmother) had taught him. While the biscuits were baking, I made chocolate gravy and grits. Alexei had never had either.

Gran and Pam came in for breakfast a few minutes after everything was done cooking. I made Pam's plate and sat her next to me. I observed her for any signs that something was off, that last night had taken its toll on her. She told me to stop acting weird and that she was fine. I wasn't sure I believed her, but I couldn't really do anything until she told me otherwise.

Even when we'd all finished eating, Eric was still asleep. That was for the best. If he could sleep, I was going to let him. I got Pam's stuff out of my room so that she could take a quick shower. After she was done, I took mine, scrubbing my skin for any spots that Eric might have missed and shampooing my hair twice. But when I stepped out, my skin pink from the hot water and the loofah, I still felt dirty, still felt his blood on me.

And I worried that I'd never feel completely clean again.

While I changed into my clothes, I watched him. Eric had flipped over onto his stomach at some point, his arm outstretched toward my side of the bed. He kept reaching out and scooting over as if trying to find me. And it made my stomach flip. I pulled on my top quickly and climbed onto bed with him, unable to allow his fruitless search anymore. I kneeled down beside him and kissed his forehead, brushing hair out of his face.

He was so good to me. He had really driven here in the middle of the night to comfort me, to take care of me, after I shot Bill. He dropped whatever he was doing and came. Even when I couldn't tell him why. And he was so calm. He didn't yell or freak out because he knew that I hated it.

"Come here." I smiled as his arm surrounded my hips and dragged me down on the bed with him. He nuzzled my neck.

"You need to go eat breakfast. And we need to go to the police station. I want to get this over with." He sighed. "I agree. Do you think Pam needs to come?"

"Probably. I don't think they could talk to her last night. Shit. I haven't even talked her about it. Have you? Is she okay?"

I shrugged. "She says she's fine. But I don't know how much she saw or knows."

It took a while, but I finally convinced Eric to get up and start getting ready. I felt bad for doing that when he obviously needed his rest, but I was selfish and didn't want to go to the police station without him. Gran headed off to church alone. Lex was sprawled out on the couch watching infomercials, his eyes glazed over, watching but not really seeing. And Pam perched herself in Eric's lap while he ate. She wouldn't admit it but I knew she had missed him over the weekend. And after last night, she needed his reassurance as much as I did.

My prayers were answered at the police station, because Kenya was the one there for me to talk to. She could be abrasive and tough, but at least she was competent. Andy was not. She told me that they had been thinking of medevacing Bill to Jackson last night but got him stable enough that they didn't end up doing it. Then she talked to Pam, because Andy hadn't. Eric and I sat on either side, flanking her, anxious to hear what she'd heard.

"Is this like on TV when they make you swear to tell the truth and all that?" Pam asked.

"That's usually in court, but it's the same basic premise. It's wrong to lie to me," Kenya replied.

"Am I going to have to do this in court, since Bill broke in and everything? Because I'll do it if I have to. He's a dumbass."

Kenya coughed, like she was trying to hide a laugh, while Eric unconvincingly scolded her. His heart just wasn't in it. And I knew that both he and I had called Bill far worse names.

"Why don't you just tell me what happened last night?" Kenya tried to steer us back on the right track.

Pam sighed and played with her uncharacteristically messy hair. Eric and I were failing in the taking care of her department this morning. I didn't even know if she'd brushed her teeth. I couldn't even remember if I'd brushed _my_ teeth. It was an awful morning. Eric was wearing his clothes from yesterday. At least Pam and I had gotten to shower and put clean clothes on.

"I woke up when I heard Sookie calling 911, so I followed her into the living room. She was holding a gun. I'm not a gun expert, but I've played Call of Duty and I think it was a shotgun." Kenya gave me an "are you serious?" look and I laughed despite myself. Pam's head bounced back and forth between us. "Is that wrong?"

"No, sweetie. You're right." I could only imagine the trouble Lex was going to be in for letting her play the game to the point that she could recognize that.

Pam smirked. "Anyway, Sookie turned into a tyrant and told me to go back to her room. And then Bill showed up. He's either delusional or a psycho, because he thought Sookie would want to go with him even though she loves Eric."

"You call your dad Eric?"

"I don't understand how that question is relevant," Pam replied. "But, yes, I do."

"Noted," Kenya said, scribbling something on the paper in front of her. "Go on."

"Where was I? Um. Bill said he was going to take Sookie and she told him not to go closer. And he taunted her. I don't remember exactly, but then I heard a bang. I put my ear to the door, but after I didn't hear anything, I got worried and went out there to check. Bill was on the ground. And he was bleeding. A lot. Gran came into the room a few seconds after I did. She took the phone from Sookie and talked to Eric, trying to explain what happened.

"Then the cops showed up and the ambulance took Bill away. Gran tried to keep me away from him so that I wouldn't see, but I told her it was too late. I'd already seen him. There was no point in trying to ignore that it had happened. I really thought he was dead. Pity."

"I take it that you did not like Bill Compton," Kenya said.

"Not even a little bit." I wanted to tell her to shut up and at least feign sympathy, but I bit my tongue. It's not like she would have listened even if I had asked.

"And why is that?" I watched Eric shift in his chair. Just as uncomfortable with this as I was. I wondered what she was going to say.

"He hurts Sookie. Makes her sad. And scared. Why would I like anyone who did that?"

Kenya scribbled some more.

"Is there anything else?" Eric asked, teetering as he stood up. Kenya wanted us to leave a number, so Eric pulled out a business card and wrote his cell number on the back.

I offered to drive back to Gran's house, but he insisted that he had gotten more sleep. I didn't mention Lex's confession about his sleeping habits on Friday night, deciding that it wasn't worth the argument. He blinked his eyes a few times while driving, but otherwise we made it back without incident.

Lex was asleep on the couch. Pam curled up in Gran's bed. And Eric and I went to my old room to take a nap. I didn't even have time to take off my shoes, because the second my head hit the pillow, I was out.

I awoke again in the middle of the afternoon to Eric kissing me softly. We ate lunch with Gran and then drove back to the house, him following me because he was worried about my driving. And I kept peeking at his car in the rearview mirror because I was worried about his. He needed a break, but he was stubborn and I knew he wouldn't take a day off until we went to visit his grandparents.

The entire week he kept up his routine like nothing was wrong, though I caught him and Alexei talking in the kitchen nearly every morning. Lex wasn't sleeping at night anymore. The only time he did was during the day, usually on the couch, when someone else was in the room with him. It worried me.

I had to practically spoon-feed him every meal or else he'd just push the food around. I tried to talk to Eric about what was going on, but he seemed reluctant to talk about it, said Lex was having nightmares and that was it. And every time I brought it up, Pam would walk out of the room, even if I was in the middle of a sentence.

I hated not knowing what to do or how to help.

On Friday afternoon, just after Eric left for work, I lounged in the living room in Eric's big comfy chair reading _Bleak House_, while Lex was asleep on the couch. Pam was in her room taking a nap. All of a sudden, he shot up off the couch, his head whipping from side to side and his arms brushing aside the air, his breath short and labored. Confusion swam through his eyes.

I stood up slowly. "Lex? Are you okay?"

He stared at me for a few seconds before nodding slowly. "I'm…yeah. I'm okay."

"Sweetie, you're not. And it worries me." I gulped. He wasn't okay. And I was pissed that everyone kept saying that when clearly he wasn't.

"Don't worry."

"I can't help it." I sighed and looked at him. If he wasn't going to tell me what was going on, then at least I could help him to go to sleep. "Come on," I said. I looped my arm around his and forced him come with me to the kitchen. I put on some herbal tea to boil and warmed up some oatmeal cookies—like Gran always gave to me when I was younger and couldn't sleep. I poured us both a cup, sweetening it with honey. I made him sit at the table with me and drink it slowly with the cookies.

I sipped at my tea and watched him; he occasionally glanced my way before turning his eyes back to the tabletop. This went on until his and my cups were both empty. And then he spoke. "How much has Eric told you? About our dad?"

I straightened up in my chair. He was actually going to tell me what was going on? And it had to do with their father? I felt queasy and he hadn't even told me anything. Gran taught me it was wrong to hate people, but I hated that man. I didn't know the full extent, but what I knew was enough. "Not a lot. That he used to hurt you guys and that he went to prison."

His Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed, his eyes staring at the smooth table. "Do you know what my first memory is? The thing farthest back that I can remember? It was Eric—he was maybe fifteen or sixteen—and he told me to hold onto his back so that we could sneak out of the house because our dad had shown up drunk and he was afraid that he'd hit me. Eric told me to squeeze my eyes closed so that I wouldn't get scared when he climbed out of the second story window. But I peeked and I was so scared that I screamed. Dad caught us. He beat Eric and he made me watch."

Fuck.

"It was my fault. Everything that happened to Eric was because of me. Dad ignored him unless he tried to protect me, and that's when he got really bad. Once, when Eric gave me an apple because Dad wouldn't feed me, he took one of Eric's baseball bats and hit him until he couldn't speak or stand or open his eyes. Eric couldn't go to school for a week because the bruises were so bad."

I couldn't think of anything to say that would help soothe him. And I was afraid that if I tried to speak, my voice would crack. Which wouldn't help. Instead, I scooted over so that I was in Eric's chair and rubbed circles between his shoulder blades.

"It got worse when Eric left. I get why he did, but…" He huffed a loud breath. "You're gonna love this. For my sixth birthday, my dad took me to the cemetery and made me sleep on top of my mom's grave."

I gasped. What kind of person…Oh my god. Tears charged forward in my eyes, but I held them back.

Alexei laughed once humorlessly. "That's not even the best birthday. One year, when I turned nine, he decided to plan ahead. Locked me in a closet for the three day before, didn't feed me anything, and then the day of he let me out. He mixed up this nasty cake batter in a huge bowl, like enough for three cakes, and made me eat it all. Lick the bowl clean. I was so afraid of him locking me up again. I…I tried to. I tried so fucking hard. But I just...I couldn't. Fuck." He punched the table, his jaw clenched. And I lost my battle with crying.

His birthday was next week.

I wiped at the tears on my cheeks, only succeeding in spreading them around. "I didn't tell you to make you cry. I told you because you needed to know. We don't make a big deal out of my birthday. It's just a day. There's no cake or ice cream or candles or singing. We all pretend it's just another day."

I nodded and swallowed. "Okay. Is this why you're not sleeping?" My voice sounded like it'd been through a wood chipper.

"Nightmares," he replied.

"Is this how you usually deal with them? Just don't sleep?"

"Sometimes I drink or smoke pot. They help," he said, shrugging his shoulders. I realized that my hand had stilled on his back, so I started tracing circles again. "Eric lets me sleep in his bed. That helps."

Fuck a duck. "You haven't been because I'm there, right? You can. Whenever. We've already had Pam sleep with us after a bad dream."

"It's not the same thing." He shook his head. "It's not tiny little Pam curling up next to you."

"I don't care. If you have another nightmare, you're going to come to our room," I replied, feeling a little calmer, trying to work through this to find a solution. If staying with Eric made him feel better, feel safer, then I'd be selfish to deny him that. It might be a little awkward at first, but what wasn't in this house? Plus, it'd probably help Eric not to worry as much if he could actually see Lex.

"Okay." He shrugged.

I plotted a timeline in my head. We were leaving for Lake Charles to see the Grandparents Northman in exactly two weeks. Alexei's birthday was Monday. Father's Day was sandwiched between the days. Father's Day. Shit.

"Is that why Eric doesn't want a cake? Because of what happened?"

Lex shook his head, and finally looked at me. Completely serious. "Eric doesn't know. Not about the cake thing. He knows about the hating birthdays, because he was there for a few of them." And then his face started to soften, those stony features melting. "You've seen me cook a few times now. Do you really think that I can't make a cake? I've sabotaged every one that Pam's convinced me to make. I'm surprised no one's caught on yet."

"We'll do something different this year. Make him breakfast maybe? Or take him somewhere?"

He sighed. "Thank you. For this. Just don't tell Eric. He doesn't know, and I don't want to go back to the shrink."

"I won't tell him unless you get worse. But I think you should."

That night I woke up in a panic, dreaming that I was tied up in Eric's bed and covered in blood. My first nightmare since that night. Gran called every time she heard an update on Bill. It was all "good" news. He was recovering quickly—the church ladies thought it was because they were praying for him; I thought it was because you can't kill the Anti-Christ.

The nightmare shook me. But Eric was right there, wrapped around me, kissing my neck and murmuring that everything was okay. That I was safe. That he wouldn't let anything bad happen. That he loved me.

And I relaxed against him.

"Thank you."

"You okay?" I nodded. "Alexei came in here earlier. He's sleeping now. I hope you don't mind."

"I told him to. I'm glad he listened." He actually showed up. And he was asleep. Good. I'd thought that it might take him a few days to be comfortable with the idea, but I was glad that he sought out comfort when he needed it.

Eric nuzzled my hair. "He talked to you?"

"A little bit. Told me a little more about when you guys were younger."

"Our dad?" As he spoke, he tightened his hold on me. And I felt like his security blanket. He didn't like to talk about him. And I could understand why, so I never pushed.

Honestly, and especially after what Alexei told me, I wasn't sure I could handle hearing it. I was so lucky that when my parents died, I had someone who loved me. Someone who didn't just ignore me. Our Aunt Linda had gone into remission that year, so if Gran hadn't been there, hadn't wanted us, Jason and I would have gone into foster care.

"Yeah. And how you took care of him."

"Someone had to," he replied. And that was one of the reasons I loved him. That loyalty. How protective he was for those that he loved. He took on that responsibility without prompting or question.

"You're a good man."

"I try to be."

"You are," I replied. "Don't argue."

He chuckled quietly. "Yes, ma'am." I yawned and a few seconds later he did the same. "Sleep, dear one."

"The same goes for you, Mr. Northman."

He hummed and snuggled into me. "Sweet dreams."

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A/N: Chapter title comes from "Asleep" by The Smiths. Thoughts? Opinions?


	28. Home Is Wherever I'm With You

A/N: Shorter than some of the other chapters lately, but, personally, I really like this chapter. I want to thank all the lovely Twitter ladies for their love and support. And especially xjamieee who introduced me to the song that the chapter title comes from.

Disclaimer: CH owns. I just play.

* * *

On Sunday, Pam and I spent a little girl time together shopping for new bathing suits for vacation, Lake Charles with his grandparents. Between Eric's instructions on what he considered appropriate and Pam's stubborn opinion on what she wanted, it took three hours and four different stores for her to decide on a lavender tank bathing suit. The time that I didn't spend wanting to rip my hair out or strangle her I spent talking to her about how she really felt about me shooting Bill.

She stuck to her police statement for a long time. She didn't care. It wasn't a big deal. Blah blah blah. But then her story changed. She got all huffy and put her hands on her hips, annoyed at me or her dad or not finding the right swimsuit or all of the above.

"Yeah, it was a little scary to see him bleeding like that. I've never seen a dead body. I don't even know anyone who died. Eric and Alexei's mom. But I didn't know her. I mean, I knew Bill. I didn't like him, but I knew him. It would be…weird if he was dead."

"How are you doing with this? Really?" I asked. And then she went back to grimacing at the racks of swimsuits.

"I'm fine. He's not dead. But he's going to jail." He was. For a few years at least. Bill was a complete idiot and confessed that he broke into the house to take me, though he insisted that I wanted to be with him. If it had gone to trial, he definitely could have pleaded insanity, because he was unstable. "And you're still here," Pam added.

"I am."

"People don't always stay," she replied. She said it so passively. I knew that she was talking about her mom, even though we'd never talked about her before, not really. A few sentences said in panic about being kidnapped did not pass for conversation. I knew it'd have to come up eventually; I thought she'd bring her up sooner, especially with me moving in.

But she didn't.

"People don't always leave either," I said. "Eric would never leave you. He would never even consider it." That was just who he was.

"What about you?" She walked around the rack, so that I couldn't see her face when she asked. Her voice was still nonchalant. As if we were talking about what day of the week it was or what we were eating for dinner and not if I planned on abandoning her.

"Nope. You're stuck with me for as long as you want me." I knew that me leaving was a big deal to her, especially after the time I left and came back and then left again. I'd been so stupid, not even considering what that would look like to her, to someone who was so afraid of being abandoned again. I fucked up. And I wasn't going to do that again.

If for some reason Eric and I didn't work out, I'd stay friends with both Pam and Alexei. I loved them both too much to just stop. To just sever all ties.

Alexei's birthday came and went without any fanfare. No one said anything on Monday afternoon when Lex finally climbed out of our bed. Sunday had been a rough night on him, and he'd sprawled out next to Eric. Thank the lord that his bed was so big, because in a queen the brother's would have pushed me off the edge, even with Eric's teddy bear grip on me.

On Monday, Eric went to work like any other day. Lex had a frozen pizza for lunch. And then for dinner we ate fried catfish. There was no mention that Alexei had gotten another year older. There weren't even presents, though I knew he was supposed to be getting a new car or something. That night I asked Eric about it and he said that they would give them to him later.

Later meant Wednesday morning apparently.

And they all knew that. I was the only one surprised when Lex was actually up before noon, up before me. He was practically bouncing in his chair while Pam and I ate breakfast, and he kept straining his neck to see if Eric had shown up. And he kept pestering me on if I knew what kind of car Eric had bought, which made me thankful that I hadn't let him tell me because I would have blabbed.

Alexei begging was just as difficult for me to resist as Eric begging. Or Pam. The entire family had me wrapped around their finger.

When Eric finally showed up, Alexei rocketed out of his seat and ran to him. He was looking more and more like his old self, and it thrilled me. If he started making inappropriate comments he'd be back to normal. He held out his hand for the keys, but Eric, who was smiling about as wide as Lex was, shook his head.

"Close your eyes."

"Eric, I'm not five. Just give me the keys." But Eric just shook his head again and waited for Alexei to comply. He held out longer than I thought he would—almost a full minute. "Fine."

Eric took one of his arms and led him, while I walked alongside him to make sure he didn't peek. Pam trailed behind us lazily, like she didn't care one bit, but knew it was required of her. And then I saw it parked in the driveway.

"Whoa." I wasn't a car expert, but I knew what a Mustang looked like; I recognized the logo. And this one was incredible. Beautiful. It was sleek and masculine. And whoa.

Lex's head turned to me. "Whoa? Can I look? Eric?"

"Yeah, open your eyes."

"Shut the fuck up." I didn't know who to look at—Eric or Alexei—because both wore identical expressions of joy. I didn't know that it was possible to be that happy giving a present. "Shut the fuck up. Oh my god. Oh my god." Lex ran his fingers through his hair and stalked around the car.

"You like it then?"

Alexei whipped around to look at him. He put his hands on Eric's shoulders and shook him a few times. "You're a fucking liar. 'The Mustang's too expensive. It doesn't get good gas mileage.' And even after I showed you the specs and the awards. Shut up. I hate you."

"You went with black, then?" Pam asked, standing to the side, picking at her nails.

"You knew?" Lex asked.

She snorted. "Duh. Like Eric can make important decisions without my help."

Even that couldn't wipe the smile from Eric's face. "You're responsible for insurance and gas, so that means you can't blow off work. If you can't pay for gas money yourself, you don't drive it. Simple as that." Alexei nodded, but I wasn't sure he was even paying attention, because his saucer-sized eyes were staring with wonderment at the car again. "I'll show you how to check and change the oil and basic engine repair. But you remember the deal: the first time that you get a ticket for speeding—"

"I know, Eric. I won't."

Eric put his hand on Lex's shoulder, and for any other family this would be the time to say happy birthday. But no one did.

"Thank you."

"I'm glad you like it."

Eric and Lex went out driving that afternoon to practice. Lex already had his permit; he just needed to pass the actual driving test part. They came back to the house pissed at one another, which made me laugh even though it shouldn't have. Jason had been the one to teach me how to drive, and he drove like a maniac so he was always upset with me. He told me I was driving like ninety-two-year-old blind nun and that it wasn't illegal to go exactly the speed limit. But "exactly the speed limit" to Jason was at least five over with the radio cranked, listening to Skynyrd and sneaking sips from the bottle ok Jack Daniels that he kept in his glove box.

They went out for two hours on both Wednesday and Thursday—both times ending in slammed doors and Metallica blaring loudly—and then Eric took him Friday morning for the test. They came back with Lex smiling wide and Eric looking scared for his life.

When we were lying in bed that night he told me why. "I knew he'd be driving. It sounds so dumb now. I got the car; I knew he'd drive it. But then I was holding his license and it hit me that it was real. That he'd be out there with drunk drivers and people texting or eating or just morons. The car could breakdown or he could run out of gas in a bad neighborhood. So many fucking things could go wrong."

I put my hand on his cheek. "You'll worry yourself gray. He's a good kid."

"He's also a stupid kid. What if—"

"Eric, you have to trust him until he gives you a reason not to. You raised him well. Have a little faith in him."

He sighed. "I'll try." Things had begun to settle a little more, so his stress level hadn't been nearly as high. He was sleeping again. And we even had the bed to ourselves that night, though both of us were so exhausted from the usual 3 AM wakeup calls that we did little more than make out like teenagers and snuggle until we fell asleep.

Still, not a bad way to spend a night.

Saturday night we went out for dinner together. Eric had made it a point for us to get a little alone time whenever we could find it. And it was nice for it to just be me and him, to focus on our relationship. We didn't talk about the kids or anything even related to them. We talked about books and movies and politics—he and I disagreed on several little things, but nothing neither of us could overlook. He told me a bit about his mom, what she was like and their relationship. And I told him more about my parents.

I loved talking to him like that. I loved the normal 'how was your day' stuff too, but discovering him on a deeper level—the things that made him what he was, his opinions and beliefs and childhood. Knowing that his mom used to read to him every night before bed and always sang "Here Comes the Sun" when she woke him up.

I fell in love with him a little more when he talked about how much he missed her, how he wished that he'd been able to introduce us. I felt the same way. I was young when my parents died, too young to really know them as people, but I was sure they'd like Eric. I didn't know how anyone who knew him couldn't.

Sunday morning we woke up to Pam and Alexei jumping on the bed with us. Pam crawled next to Eric, and Lex scooted close to me, smushing us close together. This had not been part of the plan. They were supposed to let him sleep in while we made him brunch. And then we were going to go watch the Shreveport-Bossier Captains play. And then a nice, relaxing dinner of Chinese takeout and _Dead Poets Society_. Waking us up was not in the schedule.

"Happy Eric Day," Pam said with a smirk.

"Can you at least feign obedience for once and call me dad today?" He laughed and pulled her close to him.

"Sure thing, _dad_."

"Don't say it like that." He started to tickle her and she thrashed around. I had to lean into Alexei to avoid the flailing legs and arms. He put his hands up to help deflect them for me.

"Eric, get your daughter under control," Lex yelled over Pam's shrieks.

Eric turned his head to look at me, grinning. "He's ticklish just below his ribs." And then he turned back to torturing Pam.

Lex started to inch away from me. "It's not true. He's lying."

There's no way it was a lie. Alexei looked like he was about to make a run for it. You don't just do that if it's not true. I twisted around quickly, my hands finding the spot Eric mentioned, and watched Lex squirm. While I laughed, he huffed and climbed off the bed. Oh, I'd definitely be using that against him in the future.

I was a little mad Eric had waited all this time to tell me that.

Pam finally folded, calling him dad without even a sliver of snark, so he placed her in his lap and put his arm around my shoulders, pulling me to his side. He looked up at Alexei. And he motioned for him to hop on the bed.

"Come on. Join the family." My heart flipped out a little over that. I'd gotten used to everything else—the house, the room, the kids. 'The family' was new, and it scared me.

A lot.

He pointed at me like a petulant child. "She's going to try to tickle me again."

I held my hands up in an attempt to appease him. "I won't, Lex. I promise." He paused for a second, searching my face for any sign of deceit. I rolled my eyes. Yes, I was going to use that trick again eventually, but if Eric wanted us all together for his Father's Day, I wasn't going to ruin that. Eventually, he gave up his pouting and climbed into bed, snuggling up next to me like it was normal.

"What is with this family? You all love to cuddle."

"It's a skill," Lex replied. "We've been perfecting it since childhood. It's taken a lot of practice, but now we cuddle like nobody's business." And to emphasize his point he scooted closer, while I laughed.

It's ridiculous how much time we spent cuddling in bed that day, but every time someone tried to get up, Eric would pull them back down. He was content, and it was his day, so we didn't argue. Much. We finally got up in enough time to make it to the baseball game, deciding that we'd just eat a late lunch at the stadium, even though I warned him that it would probably be awful and cost more than our tickets to the game.

Didn't even faze him.

We sat in the stands along the third base line and ate shitty stadium hotdogs and watched the Captains get murdered by some team from Iowa. Eric drank cheap beer, while we drank lemonade. Sadly, he stopped at one, but I was working on plan so that I could get acquainted with drunk Eric. I just knew he and drunk Sookie would be great friends. He bought Pam a huge bag of cotton candy, which made her insist that he was in the running for father of the year.

It was a good day, an easy day. No drama. No stress.

I was so excited when we got back to the house, knowing that Alexei was about to give him his present, while he was completely unaware. He sat down in his big comfy chair, while Pam and I curled up on the couch. Lex ran up to his room and came back a few seconds later holding the piece of paper. I'd done the research after Lex told me, even talked to Bobby a little bit to make sure that we were doing everything right.

Lex handed it to him. "Happy Father's Day."

"What is this?" he asked, sounding confused.

"Read it," Lex replied, though he was already doing just that. Lex looked more and more nervous with every passing second of silence. And Eric looked less and less controlled. He stood up and put his hand on Lex's shoulder.

"You're really going to do this? Alexei, you don't have to. It's not like I care if you don't. It's just a name. It doesn't even mean anything."

"You're wrong. It means a lot. You've always been my dad. Always. And I want my last name to be whatever yours is."

"Lex…" He trailed off like he didn't know what he wanted to say, his fingers raked through his hair. Eric's Adam's apple bobbed and he closed his eyes.

"You're not going to cry, are you? Sookie said you would cry."

His chaotic blue eyes opened and stared at me. "You knew?" I nodded. I'd been a little surprised when Lex told me, but I supported his decision either way. Eric never talked about how he felt about Alexei becoming a Northman like him and Pam, but I knew that if it was me, regardless of the fact that it was a chosen rather than given name, I knew it would make me happy. And what Alexei had said had me all teary and it wasn't even about me. "You helped him with the paperwork?"

"All you have to do is sign and Bobby will file the paperwork." That's what that man told me at least. Every time I called, he sounded bored and displeased, like he was only humoring me because he knew Eric would kick his ass and/or fire him. It was probably true.

Eric put his hand at the back of Alexei's neck and kissed the top of his head. It was the most affection I'd seen between the two of them. I knew they loved each other, but they both always acted like they were too macho to show it. I'd never even heard them say it to one another.

"Thanks."

"Yeah," Alexei replied, shrugging his shoulders like it was whatever.

"Men," Pam muttered. "Just hug already. It doesn't make you any less of a man. I mean, really, we're not going to think less of you."

"Shut up, Pam." She snorted but remained otherwise quiet. "Basketball?"

"Sure," Alexei replied. "But don't think I'm going easy on you because it's Father's Day."

"Don't get cocky just because you're sixteen. I can still kick your ass." Pam looked at me and rolled her eyes at their taunting.

"Bring it, old man."

They both ran off to change into their basketball clothes. "Why can't boys just say they love each other?" Pam asked. And I wished I had an answer, but I didn't understand it either. Eric said it to me and Pam all the time, so it's not like he didn't ever say the words to anyone.

"I don't know."

"Wanna go watch Eric beat Alexei?"

She still held her hero-worship for him. He was still invincible. It was sweet. "Sure."

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A/N: Chapter title comes from "Home" by Edward Sharpe and the Magnetic Zeros. So, what'd you think?


	29. Holdout, Hold Up

A/N: I fully intended to make this chapter from Eric's POV, but he was being surprisingly difficult, so I ended up completely rewriting it from Sookie's POV. And we all know how Sookie gets when she's in one of her stubborn moods. I hope the Twitter girls aren't too upset with me.

Oh, and for those asking, I will let you know when the story is ending.

Disclaimer: CH owns.

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We made it to vacation.

And more importantly we made it to Lake Charles without Pam puking in the car. She'd gotten a little car sick around the halfway point, and none of us wanted to drive another hour and a half breathing in the scent of vomit.

Eric pulled my car up into the drive way of this cute old house, and I heard both Alexei and Pam sigh in relief. Pam shot out of the car and started sucking in fresh air like it was going out of style. Then she ran toward the house, only stopping to hug a man—presumably Eric's grandfather—who was seated on a porch swing.

I saw Alexei walking in the same direction, his bag slung over his shoulder and his pillow under his arm. I glanced at the seat next to me and found Eric missing, which left me alone, still sitting in the car like an idiot. I wasn't really afraid of them not liking me. I was nervous. They were Eric's family. And, apparently, so was I. So this thing was important.

He'd told me a little bit about them, but I still felt like it wasn't enough.

I climbed out of the car, and, when I had shut my door and turned around, Eric's grandpa was standing right there in front of me. And I jumped like I was on a trampoline. He held out his hand for me to take.

"Which one of my grandsons are you here with?" What? Was that a serious question? I turned around to look at Eric, who was chucking and pulling my suitcase out of the trunk.

"Pop-pop, stop teasing her. She's already nervous."

The man squeezed my hand, so I faced him again. "He's a good one."

"I know." God, did I know. I was so lucky to have Eric. And I wasn't going to mess it up because of the word "family" freaking me out. I'd known that's what I was entering into when I moved. Of course, it was a natural progression that he'd consider me family. Right? Nothing to freak about.

Eric slammed the trunk and came to stand beside me, his arms occupied with a variety of suitcases—his, mine, and Pam's.

"Anything new, son? Quick, before your grandma gets out here."

And then he smiled. I could see some of Eric in him, or maybe it was the other way around. They were both tall, though Eric had a couple of inches on him. And his grandpa, his Pop-pop, looked strong still, not like a feeble, old, grandparent. Eric had told me that he had been in the army when he was younger and that he still ran his carpentry business himself, though he didn't do nearly as much of the actual construction anymore. He kept a shop in the back of the house. Eric said that it had been his favorite place when he had come to visit, even though he was technically not supposed to be there. His grandma thought he'd accidently chop one of his hands off.

"We filed the papers for Alexei to officially become a Northman."

And his grandpa practically glowed with happiness. "Finally, the last holdout." And then he looked at me. "Well, I guess he's not the last holdout anymore."

Shit. Was he…There's no way that he was really…No. It was…

"Noah Eugene Northman, what did you say to the poor girl? She looks scared spitless. Oh, honey." And his grandma up and hugged me like we were old friends. I hadn't seen her come outside, but then I'd been wrapped in looking for genetic similarities between the two Northmans in front of me.

She pulled away and looked at her husband, her hands on her hips. They had to be about the same age as Gran, but both looked to be in better shape, in better health. He looked at her and it seemed so loving, like they had just said their vows instead of her scolding him on the front lawn in front of us.

"I didn't say a thing, dear one."

And that's how I died.

That's what it felt like for a few seconds. Long enough for me to be conscious of the fact that I was holding my breath. "Shut up." My voice was squeaky. An octave higher than it normally was. And then I panted, trying to refill my lungs.

"Sookie," Eric said quietly. Did he do that intentionally? He had to have. Surely he knew what his grandfather called his grandmother. Why didn't he tell me? He had to know I'd find out about it.

"What's going on, son?" his grandma asked.

I interrupted him before he could speak. "That's what Eric calls me. Dear one."

"Oh," she replied, sounding surprised. I watched her look at her husband and then her grandson before looking at me again. "Since, Eric still hasn't done introductions, let me. I'm Evelyn Northman and this is Noah. Eric and the kids call us Pop-pop and Nana. I don't really care what you call me, but let's get you inside. It's hotter than a firecracker out here. Noah, help Eric with the bags."

She wrapped her arm around mine and led me away. And I let her. I felt a little shell shocked. Between it being implied that I should become a Northman and finding out that Eric's pet name for me was also the name his grandfather used for his wife of fifty years, I was out of it, off my game. Whatever game I'd planned on having.

"You're Sookie? Am I pronouncing that right? I don't want to mess it up."

I nodded. "Yeah. Sookie like cookie. I've had so many people pronounce it differently, though, that it doesn't even faze me anymore."

The house was beautiful, a home, full of old memories and comfortable. Light blue walls and worn-in couches and knick knack shelves. Evelyn led me up the stairs, past a green room where Pam was lying face down on the bed and to a larger room. The furniture looked like what was in Eric's house—the bedside table, the dresser, the bench at the foot of the bed. I'd more than wager that his grandpa had built them.

"This is where you and Eric will be staying. I'll let you get settled in. Dinner will be in two hours." She turned around to leave, but stopped and glanced at me. "It's nice to have you here, Sookie. I was very anxious to meet the woman that Eric was bringing to meet us. And you seem sweet."

I traced the edge of the table, while I waited for Eric. It was familiar. I heard his footsteps and then our bags being dropped to the floor. And then finally he wrapped his arms around my torso, his chin on top of my head.

It was one of those times when I was reminded of our height difference.

"You already overwhelmed?"

A little bit. "Dear one?"

He sighed. "I didn't realize until a few weeks ago. It wasn't intentional. And I'll stop if you want me to."

Had it caught me by surprise? Yes. Did I want him to stop? Not even a little bit. "No. Don't."

"Are we okay?" I nodded. "Good."

Dinner went smoothly. Evelyn made pork chops—Eric's favorite, and he ate more than Pam and I put together. Then I offered to help clear the table, while Eric, Alexei and their grandfather went out to his shop. After we put everything into the dishwaher, Evelyn and I sat on the giant wraparound front porch. It was the kind of porch that my Gran had always wanted, the kind that would have made her deeply envious. It was so Antebellum South.

As the sun started to set, Pam came out and asked where they kept the Mason jars, because she wanted to catch a firefly. Evelyn told her to look in the pantry, and, a couple minutes later, she joined us outside. So while she ran around the front lawn, looking more like a child than I'd ever seen her, we chatted. She asked about my job and my family. And then we started the relationship talk.

"How long have you two been together?"

I did the math in my head. And realized why I'd never let myself do that before. Because I freaked out easily. "Not that long. A couple of months." Shit. I hadn't even known Eric three months. But it felt like so much longer than that. I couldn't imagine where I might be if I hadn't met him. How much my life would be different, how empty it would be.

"Why do you say it like that? 'Not that long." She had blue eyes like all the other Northmans I knew, and they stared me down, demanding an answer. But in the sweetest way humanly possible. Way worse than Pam's.

"I…" Nothing. "You're just…people don't really do this. Fall in love and move in and be each other's family. It's…" too soon.

Evelyn took my hand, her features softening. She looked at me like my Gran had when she tried to teach me cross-stitching or how to make a pie crust. Like I had so much to learn. "I met Noah on my seventeenth birthday. Do you how long it took him to propose?" I shook my head. "Eleven days. I knew after six and had to wait for him to realize it. It wasn't always easy. He went off to Vietnam eight months after we got married, and I didn't know if I'd ever see him. It wasn't easy. But it was right."

Eleven days. "What did people think when you got engaged that soon?"

She laughed, eyes lighting up. Looking like any girl who's ever been in love. "They thought I was crazy. They thought we both were. But I didn't care a lick. Noah talked to my parents, begged them every day to let him marry me. And then they finally did, and we lived in this horrible apartment in New Orleans. I still have nightmares about it." She laughed again. "One thing about the Northmans, when they decide they want something, that's it. Their mind is made up."

I didn't have time to contemplate that.

"Sookie," Pam yelled and scrambled up the steps of the porch, jumping into my lap. She showed me the jar, her tiny hand acting as the lid. And the tiny firefly that lit up every few seconds. "I finally caught him. He kept trying to get away. But I got him."

I put my arms around her waist and adjusted how she was sitting. "I didn't know you liked fireflies."

"Dad calls them lightning bugs," She told me. "They're like flying little Christmas lights. And I love Christmas. Eric puts up the tree, but he hides all the presents in his closet—because we _definitely_ won't think to look there—and only puts them out on Christmas Eve after we go to bed, And we drink hot apple cider and eggnog. And Nana sends candy to us. You'll love it."

Christmas. I'd be spending Christmas morning with them. I hadn't even thought about that. I always spent time with Gran over the holidays. It was weird and kind of exciting to think about.

"Sounds nice."

"Is nice," Pam replied. "Will you tuck me in tonight?"

"Of course." She hugged me to her, before rushing back into the yard, letting her firefly loose. And tried to get another one.

"You're good with her."

I chuckled at that. "Or maybe she's good with me. Pam is the one that really decides how she wants to act and who she wants to be around."

"And she picked you."

I'd never thought about it like that. But in many ways, she had. She was the one who suggested that Eric buy me a drink that first night at the club. She'd been the instigator as well as the antagonist.

Being at Lake Charles with his grandparents was a lot easier than I thought it'd be. Our entire week was relaxed, lazy. I'd never seen Eric look so at ease. This was exactly what he needed to unwind. Whenever Pam or Alexei would ask him something, he'd tell them that he was on vacation and to ask one of the grandparents. The answer to "can I have a slice of pie?" was "ask Nana." The answer to "make Alexei leave me alone" was "ask Pop-pop." Occasionally, there was an exasperated "Eric," but he deflected that maturely by covering his ears and humming loudly.

On Saturday, our first full day there, we took the kids swimming. Well, Pam went swimming. Alexei sat around looking at all the girls in skimpy bikinis. I wanted to put my hand over his eyes or tell him that I didn't think Kira would appreciate it, but I stayed quiet. Not my place. It felt good to get some sun—my tan was coming along nicely, and I knew I'd be sad when tanning weather was gone, so I was determined to savor every second I could get.

We ate a picnic lunch—just pre-made sandwiches and chips. And then Pam and Eric built a sandcastle. Alexei accidently fell into one of the towers, which made Pam cry and go on a rampage, destroying the rest of the castle while sobbing loudly. Eric was so insanely Zen about it. He got her a bottle of water and took her on a walk, and when they returned, her sleeping head was resting on his shoulder. We decided to leave after that.

Sunday, Evelyn taught me how to make her zucchini bread and told me more about her and Pop-pop's first year of marriage.

Monday and Tuesday, Eric and I lounged around the house reading, while the grandparents took the kids out. When we finally managed to drag ourselves out of bed in the morning, we'd sit on the porch, my feet in his lap, and read _On the Road_. He'd distract me, getting a few pages ahead, and then try to tell me what was happening. By the end of Monday afternoon, I had my hand over his mouth to keep from spoiling it for me. By Tuesday afternoon, we had tossed our books aside and had to straighten our clothes when everyone returned to the house prematurely.

Eric and I went on a lunch date on Wednesday to a little hole in the wall seafood restaurant that he assured me was both safe and delicious. He was right. The food was great. And Eric smiled the entire time.

Everything seemed to be going well. Evelyn liked me, and I liked her too; she and I made dinner together every night and she would tell me stories about when Eric was younger, and then when he started coming back to visit when he had Pam. Apparently, after his mother's death, his dad forbade him from seeing or talking to his grandparents. So they didn't have any contact with him for nearly a decade, and she didn't even know at the time if he was getting the letters and cards they were sending.

Evie was sweet, reminded me a lot of Gran.

But I could never tell if Pop-pop liked me. The conversations we had revolved around the weather usually ('It's a scorcher today.' 'Yes, it is. The cool front isn't moving in until next week.'). And every time I brought it up to Eric, he insisted that his grandpa liked me and that he was just trying to figure me out. Which made me second guess everything I'd done the entire time I was there.

And then Thursday, our last night there, after dinner, Pop-pop invited me to go to see his shop. I glanced at Eric, who was smiling, and Evie, who was smirking, and decided that it was fine. The little building in the back of the house smelled like sawdust and lacquer. And I could instantly tell why Eric liked it. I walked around surveying his tools before he motioned for me to join him at the other side of the room. He showed me a dresser. It looked like the one in Eric's room but much bigger.

"Do you like it?"

I nodded. "It's beautiful."

"It's yours," he replied, and it sounded like he was smiling. I turned to look at him, making sure that I had heard him correctly. "Well, it's yours and Eric's. He mentioned that his old one wasn't big enough for both of you, so you hadn't brought all of your stuff to the house yet. And that's just unacceptable."

"You made it?" He replied that he had. "For me?"

"You're family." As if those were the magic words. The ones that washed away sins and cured deadly diseases. It was getting harder and harder to ignore dealing with that word. And what it meant for me. For us.

I lay awake for hours that night, Eric's body engulfing mine, and tried to force myself to think about what this entire week had meant, what the last month had meant. I knew that I was freaking out over nothing, that I should let this happen. But I also knew that I needed to not just let these feelings build up. I needed to know what Eric was thinking. He always seemed to be a step ahead of me.

I turned around in his arms and kissed his chest.

"Yes?" he asked, his voice heavy with sleep.

"I didn't mean to wake you," I whispered back. But I was kind of glad I had. These conversations were easier at night.

He pulled me close so that I was smushed against him, breathing in his pine and pepper scent. "Why aren't you sleeping? Are you thinking again?"

"A little bit." Eric chuckled quietly.

"Talk to me. Don't stay stuck in your head. You'll drive yourself crazy. Do you still think Pop-pop doesn't like you?"

"No. It's not that. I'm sure he likes me enough to at least be civil." I sighed. "Is this…Are we…You said I was your family." I hated when I couldn't express what I was feeling. I groaned loudly against his skin and closed my eyes.

"I did. Would you prefer if I didn't?" No, that wasn't it.

"Half the time I feel like we're going too fast. And the other half, I feel like we aren't going fast enough. That sounds crazy. It doesn't make any sense."

"It's not crazy. We don't exactly have a conventional relationship. I should probably be more cautious than I'm being, but it just feels…"

"Right?"

"Yeah," he replied. "It seems quick, but I don't regret anything. How could I? It got you here. With me. Right now. In this bed."

Our right now was easy. The future is where I got a little tripped up. "Are we going to really do this? Me driving Pam to school in the fall? Thanksgiving dinner? Christmas morning? And on and on?"

"I didn't know it was possible to make all of those things sound like you were talking about being executed." His voice was gruff, completely the opposite of how he'd been all week. Way to go Sookie. You fucked up his good mood by not sounding happy about all those things that you really did want with him.

"Shit. I can't say anything right." I huffed, while he remained silent.

My mess.

I needed to clean it up.

Or I needed to learn how to not make anymore fucking messes.

"Eric, I want to. It's terrifying for me, though, that I feel closer to you in two months than I did in two years with Bill. I feel more like your family than I do in my own. I can't wait to share a mug of coffee with you on Christmas morning while we watch the kids open presents or tan at the beach again next summer when we come to visit your grandparents. Sometimes I worry that you're more attached than I am, but today I'm worried that I am more that you."

"Don't. And you aren't." His fingers under my chin tilted my face toward him. The scruff from his unshaven face brushing against my jaw as he kissed me slowly. Deeply.

When he finally pulled away, he whispered, "I love you. I don't say it lightly. I love you and if this wasn't about Christmas and next summer and the summer after that for me, I wouldn't have let us get this far." He sighed, but it sounded more content. "I knew from the moment you mentioned _Jerusalem_ in the coffee shop, that if I let myself…"

"Yeah," I replied, knowing exactly what he meant. That feeling in the pit of my stomach. That inexplicable push toward him. That crazy bond that we shared. It had always been more than just attraction or romance or sex, and that had always sacred me.

"Me too."

* * *

A/N: Yeah. Sookie's such a worrier. Also, *spoiler alert,* if everything goes as planned, you should be getting drunk Eric next chapter. I'm pretty excited about it. Thoughts on this chapter?


	30. This Heart Of Mine

A/N: First off, chapter 30. Wow. Just wow. Second, I am reading your reviews, and I promise to do a much better job replying to them. Third, I know I promised drunk Eric, and you will get him, just not this chapter. This chapter would have gone on forever, and I know that some of you were already itching for an update. You will get him next chapter for sure. I promise.

Disclaimer: Not mine. Not mine.

* * *

Even though the days and weeks before our trip to see Evie and Pop-pop seemed to drag on, everything after it sped by so quickly that it gave my whiplash. Alexei was working at El Gallo as a waiter during the day, so he was out of the house more, waking up at a decent hour, actually showering and looking presentable because it made him better tips. And he was so tired from being on his feet all day that he rarely went out with his friends, except on weekends, and fell straight into bed after dinner.

And we tried to keep Pam busy. She refused to play any organized sports, so I took her swimming and Eric was teaching her how to play basketball. We enrolled her in an art program, so that she could interact with kids her own age. And then one at the library when she splattered black paint on some girl's new dress and was asked not to come back. It was becoming apparent that Pam should not be allowed around craft supplies when with others.

The reading program at the library seemed to fit better, because, while she was around other kids, she was allowed to read at her own level and pace.

After my talk with Eric, I was able to settle down a little bit and just let it all happen. We were in a good place. I loved waking up every morning with him curled around me. That still half-asleep smile and his eyes squinting against the yellow light of the dawn. There were little things that we butted heads on—hand washing or dishwashing, if Alexei should be doing his own laundry, the sanctity of his library. But it was nothing that we couldn't handle.

And if we argued about something petty, Pam would blare Eiffel 65's "I'm Blue," which I regretted adding to her iPod, on repeat. I should have known by that evil smirk that no good would come from it. It was her way of telling us to shut up.

It usually led to Eric taking away her iPod for the rest of the day.

August rolled around, and I went with Eric and Pam when they enrolled at Hillsdale. And then when she found out that Mrs. Jackson would be her teacher, I took her hand and led her to her new classroom. Eric interrogated Mrs. Jackson about everything he could think of—syllabus, reading lists, her degree, her experience with gifted children, her disciplinary style. She handled it pretty well considering how intimidating Eric was when he had his boss voice on. It eventually got to the point where Cindy started glaring at me, and I knew that if I didn't end it, I'd have a new enemy.

And I really didn't need another one of the teachers hating me.

"Hey, Eric, I wanted to show you my library before you had to head to work." He stood obstinately for a few seconds. "Come on."

He sighed, but let me drag him out of the room. Mrs. Jackson started talking to all the other parents who were in the room watching the exchange with wide, fearful eyes. Pam mumbled, "Thank God" as we left. In the office, I got my key from Alcide, who looked crushed to see me toting Eric along. I hoped that wasn't going to cause me more problems. He'd always given me preferential treatment because he liked me; I never encouraged him, but I had banked on that favor more than once.

They'd done a bit of construction to the library over the summer, primarily to my office since it hadn't been redone since the school had been built. New carpet. Fresh paint. It looked great and I was excited to get back and start decorating and organizing. I could just imagine everything that I wanted to do. I was ready to be back. I'd needed summer break, but now I needed it to be over.

"Pam, I've talked to Alcide, I mean Assistant Principal Herveaux,andyou can come stay in here with me before and after school."

"Works for me."

Eric stood with his arms guarding his chest, eyes staring at the rows of books. I came up behind him and wrapped my arms around his torso, resting my cheek against the muscular planes of his back. But his body remained tense.

"Cindy is a good teacher. And I'll be here. You don't need to worry." His whole body moved with his deep breath. "Eric."

"Later." There was no persuading him when he used that tone.

"''Kay."

Because it was a Tuesday, after lunch, I dropped Pam off at the library for her reading group. I went back to the apartment, somewhere I hadn't been in a few weeks, and went through more of my stuff. All of my furniture and most of my books were still in my room. My DVDs were still mixed in with Amelia's. It felt weird to be back, to see my bottle of honey nearly empty or dust on my lampshade.

It was strange that it didn't feel like home anymore.

I put the rest of my clothes, the ones I didn't wear anymore, in trash bags to take to the Salvation Army. I stacked the picture frames from my bedside table into a pile. Eric always kept everything so orderly, so meticulously neat in our bedroom, but I hoped he'd compromise and let me have pictures of Gran and Jason and me and my parents.

There were times when it still felt like _his_ house and _his _room. And I knew that it wasn't anything on his part; I was just still adjusting to the whole sharing thing. I may have even cried a little bit when the dresser arrived—thank the lord Eric was at work at the time—because it was the first thing that wasn't his or mine. I hadn't brought it with me. He hadn't already owned it.

It was ours.

It was new. No memories etched into the grain of the wood yet. I liked the feeling of _ours._

I picked up Pam from the library and took her back to the house; she prattled about some girl named Ginger that she had met that would be in her class at school. I kept glancing in the rearview mirror for any signs that this newly developed friendship would end in Pam's suspension, but she didn't seem to hold any malice toward the girl. Instead, she seemed excited, which frightened me almost as much as if she'd made an overt threat against the girl's life.

I made chicken fried steak and mashed potatoes for dinner. And then I made a chocolate chip cheesecake. And then I tried out Evie's recipe for zucchini bread for the first time on my own. And then, because there was still a gap of time between when I put Pam to bed and when Eric got home, I started making lists of everything I'd need to get at the grocery store ahead of Saturday's cookout.

Alexei came straight to the kitchen when he got home from work, piling food onto his plate and sitting down across from me at the table. He didn't say anything until he was halfway done. Eric was the same way, wanted silence for a few minutes after getting home so that he could unwind.

"Still shipping us off to Bon Temps this weekend, step-mommy dearest?"

I snorted. "Don't call me that. And yeah, I plan on getting Eric drunk and having my way with him, so yes, you and Pam are going to spend the weekend with Gran."

"So disturbing," he muttered before shoveling another bite of mashed potatoes into his mouth.

"How was work?" He shrugged. "What does that mean?"

"Kira showed up," he replied, looking at his plate. "She bitched me out. We broke up." He'd never said that they were officially together, but Eric and I had both suspected. Even started taking bets on it. It sucked that they had broken up.

"I'm sorry."

Lex shrugged his shoulders again. "I'm not going to Caddo this year, and we'll never see each other. I was going to break it off anyway. She just beat me to it."

He wasn't going to Caddo? That was news to me. "Where are you going to school?"

"Northwood."

"Why on earth would you transfer to a crappy, little public school when Eric is willing to pay for private school? It's your senior year." I would have killed for a chance to go to a private school, a school where it was expected that you'd go on to college rather than go work on the road crew or pop out a few kids. Where they had textbooks made in the last ten years.

"The only reason I went there in the first place was for Pam. Plus, I don't like wearing a uniform every day to school either, no matter how good I look," he replied, almost smiling. "And moving from school to school isn't a big deal to me. I'm used to it. Foster homes and all that."

Sometimes I forgot about the time he spent in foster care. I knew it wasn't all bad; some of my kids at school were in very loving foster homes. But it wasn't something he talked about often, so I didn't know his experiences.

"How many?"

"Foster homes?" he asked. I nodded, and he squinted. "Three. No, four. I don't know if I can really count one of them because I wasn't even there twelve hours. Oh, wait, five. If you count here. Eric's my legal guardian. He could adopt me, but that would involve getting our dad to sign away his rights, since he hasn't already. And neither of us really wants to deal with him. He already ignores our existence. That's all we really want anything else from him."

The front door echoed through the house as it shut. "Honey, I'm home."

"Speak of the devil," Alexei muttered. "Don't be all over each other; I'm still eating, and it'll make me vomit to see you all lovey."

Eric plodded into the room and went straight for the food. Just like Lex. Then he sat down beside me and kissed my temple. Lex and I talked a little, not about Kira or his previous foster families though, until he was done eating. After rinsing off his plate and putting it into the dishwasher, he said his good night.

I continued creating my list, adding the ingredients for potato salad and kabobs.

After Eric scarfed down his food, he got a big slice of cheesecake. He scooped a bite on the fork and offered it to me, which I accepted. It wasn't the best one I'd ever made, but it was okay.

"We need to discuss what my schedule is going to be like when school starts again. I don't like the way things are right now," Eric said after he swallowed his first bite. And what a great way to start a conversation. "What worked for me last year isn't going to now."

His work schedule was crazy. He worked far too much for my liking (and Pam's too). But I put up with it. I didn't feel like I could ask him to change. It's what he'd always done.

"Okay. What do we need to talk about exactly?"

His hand found mine and squeezed it gently. I liked how he always initiated physical contact when he wanted to talk about something important. "This is Alexei's last year at home and Pam's changing schools again. And you're here. I want to be home more, eat dinner with you guys, only work one night a week instead of three like I usually do during the school year."

I smiled. "I'd like that. And I know the kids would."

"Me too." Even though one hand was fused with mine, he held out his arms for me, so I traded the wooden chair for a more comfortable seat. He nuzzled into my hair. "How was your day?"

"Well, apparently, Pam made a new friend at the library today. Some girl that's going to be in her class at school."

"Should we be worried?"

"I'm not sure. I'll talk to her tomorrow when we go back to school shopping to try and find out what's going on with her."

"Are you sure you don't want me to go instead? Shopping with Pam is akin to Middle Age torture devices and should be outlawed by the federal government."

I rolled my eyes. "I've taken her shopping before, Eric, and it worked out okay. Didn't even get battle scars." He exhaled loudly.

"Okay, I'll leave you the card." He meant his credit card. I felt uncomfortable with it, but I was using it to buy Pam's clothes, so it was necessary. "And please don't let her use the 'think of all the money we're saving by me going to public school speech' in order to get more clothes. Her closet is full. She only needs a few new outfits. And make her stick exactly to the supply list, or she'll try to get all sorts of crazy things."

"I know." He'd told me all of this before. But he worried about Pam like crazy. Speaking of… "What was going on with you at the school today?"

I felt his chest rise and fall, the sigh sliding across his lips. I glanced up at him and noticed how tired he looked. "If she doesn't assimilate well here, I don't know what I'm going to do. I can't just keep shipping her off to a different school every year, every semester. I want this to work so badly. To be a good fit. Because it seems ideal."

"It does. I think she understands that too. But you should talk to her."

Eric and I finished off the cheesecake, and then I tugged him to bed, promising him a good morning blowjob and shower sex if he'd ignore the laundry and cuddle with me. I knew that it wasn't just because he was anal or believed the cleanliness was next to godliness or anything; when everything was orderly, it made him more relaxed, made him feel like he was in control. It was the same way I felt when I was baking, because my actions were what determined the finished product. Occasionally there were outside influences, but mostly it was just me.

But I also knew that if I let him do the laundry, he'd also be rewashing the dishes and sweeping the pristine floors. He'd create work for himself and ignore his need for sleep. We all benefitted from well-rested Eric, so I took it upon myself to make it happen.

We cuddled in bed and watched old The Office reruns from before the show got boring on his seldom-used TV. On commercial breaks, he'd tell me about his day—firing the new bartender, talking to Barry about how Alexei was doing, etc—and I'd tell him about mine. Before the end of the second episode, he was conked out.

I set the alarm on his phone, and then mine, before untying myself from the mess of his tangled arms and crawling out of bed to turn of the light. I was worried that I'd stumble around in the darkness and bump into things. Eric was a pretty light sleeper and anything could wake him up. But, surprisingly, I navigated the room from memory and snuggled in next to him without any speed bumps along the way.

I listened to his steady breathing, like a lullaby, and cuddled next to him. A few months ago, I had never really shared a bed with anyone. Now, it felt weird to go to bed alone on the nights he worked really late. It wasn't that I couldn't go to bed without him—I wasn't co-dependent—but I preferred him by my side.

The morning greeted me with Eric's hands slipping my shorts down my hips. I squirmed as his lips slowly kissed along my inner thighs. "Good morning."

"Morning."

"I thought…" I was going to say that I thought I was supposed to be the one waking him up with oral sex, but his tongue along my slit muddled all brain function. Eric placed my feet flat on the bed, knees held wide by his strong shoulders, his thumbs parting me. He sucked and licked and rubbed, teasing me but never letting me get my release.

My body was trembling, slick with sweat, fire flashing through every inch of me.

I begged. Pleaded. Tried to make promises and deals. Wiggled and squirmed.

But he wouldn't give me what I wanted.

Instead, Eric pulled off the tank top of his that I had worn as a night shirt. His fingers still teasing my clit, while he licked along my collarbone. His warm breath making me shiver.

I gripped his shoulders and pushed him down on the bed. I straddled his hips and rubbed myself against him, leaning down to leave open kisses along his scruffy jaw. His hips bucked into mine.

I was too far gone to care about how crazed I probably looked, pulling the boxers off of him and throwing them at the hamper. Or how my mouth watered seeing the drop of precum at his tip. I wetted my lips before licking a trail from the base of his shaft to the tip. He propped himself up on his elbow, watching as my head bobbed up and down on his cock, my hand stroking him. Every single time I glanced at him, his eyes met mine. The moans escaping his lips had me dripping down my thighs and delirious with want, but I could wait. I wanted nothing more than to feel him cum down my throat.

His fingers pulled at my hair roughly. His hips bucked. And I let him set the pace as he fucked my mouth, hitting the back of my throat more than once. And then he closed his eyes and released with a loud groan, followed by a string of muffled profanities.

I sat down, still between his legs, and, unable to wait anymore, pushed two fingers into me, while my thumb circled my clit. Eric didn't even notice what I was doing for nearly a minute, (because his eyes were still closed) until I moaned. Then he stared with half-opened eyes and a clenched jaw as I touched myself. Trying to get the release that Eric had denied me. When I knew that I was close, I curled my fingers and pinched my clit. My back arched as my long-awaited orgasm rushed through me, leaving me with shaky limbs and a racing heart.

Through the haze, I found Eric watching me.

Before I completely came down from my high, Eric had already put me on my hands and knees facing away from him. He kissed up and down my spine, pushing my mess of hair to one side.

"You don't know how fucking hot it was to watch you touch yourself, dear one. You should do that for me more often." He wrapped his arm around my hips, giving his hand perfect access to me. I knew he was still recovering from his earlier orgasm, but he seemed to be anxious to get another.

"It wasn't for you," I replied.

"Oh?" His warm breath ghosted across my skin. "Who was it for then?" And then he started rubbing my still-sensitive clit.

My arms threatened to give out, but I steadied myself. "It was for me. And it was glorious." He growled.

"Maybe. But we both know that only I can make you scream, dear one."

His words sparked a new rush of arousal. And I wanted to see how far I could push him. "Is that something I know?" I asked teasingly.

He pushed into me in lieu of actual words. And a garbled moan lodged in my throat. "Fuck."

My body tingled with every thrust. With every flick of his thumb.

The way my body reacted to him was unfathomable. Within minutes, he clamped his hand over my mouth to muffle me crying out. My arms slipped out from under me, and Eric had to hold me up as he continued to thrust into me.

He groaned loudly and tensed.

And then he let me go, let me collapse on the bed. He followed suit, lying down facing me. Eric's hands cupped my face, and he kissed me sweetly. And I could feel him smiling, which brought out mine.

"I love you, Mr. Northman."

"I love you…" And though it was a complete sentence, it sounded like he had trailed off. He looked stunned for about half a second, before recovering and kissing me again. "Shower and breakfast?"

"Sounds wonderful."

We took turns washing each other. A perfectly innocent shower, though I did feel like Eric was staring at me more than usual. But that was probably just paranoia. Because what heterosexual male wouldn't openly gawk at the naked girl in his shower? I dressed in comfy clothes—shorts and a fitted tee—since I knew Pam and I would be doing a lot of shopping. And I pulled my hair up into a ponytail.

I mixed up batter for a batch of blueberry muffins, while Eric made scrambled eggs. While we all ate breakfast together, he went over the shopping rules that he had told me again with Pam. Eric was just giving Alexei the money, trusting him to get the clothes that he needed.

Before he left, Eric gave me his card, and I succeeded in keeping the grimace off my face. And he noticed that. It wasn't that I disliked money, because who really did? But Eric kept trying to blur the lines between his money and my money, and I was the lesser in this situation. I had savings and the only debt I had was paying back student loans. I was smart with my money, stable. Eric was just a little more stable than I was.

"If you want anything…"

"I have money," I cut him off.

"I know, Sookie." He sighed. And then he kissed me goodbye.

Pam took her sweet time getting ready to go, so I had to wait around. Even Lex was out the door before we were. I already knew that it was going to take hours, so I tried to rush her along. "Five more minutes" became half an hour.

"Pam, I'm done shopping, completely finished, at four, so get into gear if you actually want to get clothes today." She hollered back okay. I had no clue what was taking her so long. Another ten minutes on the couch and I said, "I'm going out to start the car. You have five minutes."

I went outside and saw a moving truck parked across the street. I hadn't known the previous occupants. I really didn't know any of the neighbors. It was weird, completely unlike how it had been back home where everybody knew everybody's business. I saw a cute, young blonde woman coming out of the house and decided to be neighborly. I walked across the street to say hello to her.

She smiled wide when she saw me.

"Hi, I'm Sookie Stackhouse. I live right across the street."

"Sarah Newlin. I probably look a mess," she said, playing with her long hair. She had a slight accent. I'd guess she was a Texan.

"Oh no, you look incredible for someone on move-in day." She looked like Miss America, even in comfy clothes.

"Aren't you just sweeter than sugar?" I smiled. She reminded me so much of back home; she was like a Descendants of the Glorious Dead member-in-training. A dark-haired man came out the front door, looking entirely straight-laced and buttoned-down. "Honey, come here," she hollered.

He approached us, but didn't look happy about it. "Steve, this is our neighbor, Sookie. And Sookie, this is my husband, Steve."

I held out my hand, and, though it took him a few seconds, he shook it. "Pleased to meet you. Eric and I are having a barbecue on Saturday, if ya'll aren't too busy unpacking or don't have other plans. We'd love to have you." I actually didn't know that. But I figured he wouldn't. Eric was pretty much letting me plan this thing myself. I had already invited Tara and Sam and JB from Bon Temp and Amelia, Tray, and a few others. He wouldn't object to me trying to play nice with the new neighbors.

"We'll have to check our schedule and get back to you. But I hope we can," Sarah said, sounding excited about the prospect of socializing.

I heard footsteps behind me and was surprised to see Pam was actually outside. "Okay, I'm ready."

I motioned for her to come over. "Pam, these are our new neighbors, Steve and Sarah Newlin."

"That's great. Can we go?" I closed my eyes briefly. She knew better than to be so rude. I didn't know what was with her attitude, but I knew Eric didn't allow her to act like that.

I smiled extra-wide at the Newlins. I probably looked a little crazy. "We're going back to school shopping for new clothes. She's really excited."

Sarah smiled at us. "Aww. That's so cute. I wish I had a daughter to go shopping with. You two must just have a blast together doing all that mother/daughter stuff."

This is where I expected Pam to make a witty contradiction. I wasn't her mom. She wasn't my daughter. But she didn't say anything. And when I glanced at her, she turned away from me.

It was going to be a long day.

"We really should get going, but it was great to meet you. And just let me know whether or not you guys will be able to make it."

The car ride was quiet. And so was the first hour of shopping. When Pam found clothes that she liked, she'd hand them to me. When she was done at the store, she'd lead me to the cashier. At the third store, I finally tried to talk to her.

"Are you upset about what Sarah said?"

Pam handed me a cute purple cardigan, and then stared at the pink sweater for a few seconds before putting it back on the rack. "What are you referring to?"

I knew that she knew. "About me being your mom."

"You're not," she replied, walking away from me.

And I followed her. "I know."

"My mother left me when I was a baby and then last year decided she wanted me back. And if Eric has his way, I'll never see her again."

I gently stopped her and turned her to face me. "Are you saying that you want to?" There was a restraining order. And Bobby was amassing a case that would strip Sophie Ann of her parental rights based on her abandonment and the letters to both Pam and Eric, which he had kept. If Pam wanted to see her mom, then it'd need to be done soon.

"No," she replied, folding her arms. "She left me. Eric doesn't want me to. I shouldn't want to."

That definitely didn't sound like a no. Shit. I was torn. I lost my parents when I was her age and I'd give anything to see them, to know them. But I also knew that this was the same woman who had not only abandoned her, but had tried to kidnap her on multiple occasions.

"But?"

"I don't know anything about her," she blurted. And huffed. "I might be just like her. But I'll never know."

"Why don't you ask Eric?"

She rolled her eyes. "Yeah, because that would go over well. You know how he is. He'd take it to mean that I didn't think he was a good enough dad. Do you really think he'd be able to talk about her?"

"For you? Yes." There wasn't much that Eric wouldn't do for Pam. And we'd talked about what he needed to tell Pam and when, and he seemed open to the idea.

"Will you," she hesitated. "Will you be there with me? I just know I'm going to say it wrong and hurt his feelings. And you're the only one I know who can calm him down."

"Yeah. Whatever you want."

"Thanks."

* * *

A/N: Chapter title comes from "I Walk the Line" by Johnny Cash. What did you think?


	31. Den of Sin

A/N: New longest chapter. Missus T has been waiting a while for drunk Eric, so here he is for you.

Also, I start university next week, so updates will be coming a little less frequently. But they will be coming. Have patience with me.

Disclaimer: Not mine.

* * *

The rest of the shopping trip went okay. She found clothes that she liked, though she did try to push the budget a little. And when I stayed firm on it, she reluctantly backed down. I asked her more about her new friend Ginger and what she was like. Pam knew exactly what I was getting at.

She said, "This one's easily manipulated. She'll be my minion by the end of the first day. And by Fall Break, I'll have our entire class wrapped around my finger."

Yay.

I didn't know whether to be thrilled that Pam wasn't going to assault the poor girl or terrified of her plans to become the Stalin of her fourth grade class. So I let myself be both. It was asking too much of her to simply go to class, do her schoolwork, and try to make a few new friends. Or maybe it was asking too little.

Her plans did always seem to be on a much wider scale.

While Pam was in the dressing room at one of the stores, I called Eric and told him that he needed to be home early. After relaying the story about our new neighbors and them thinking I was Pam's mom, I let him know that Pam wanted to speak to him about her mother. He agreed to be back before her bedtime, but he didn't sound thrilled about it.

I was so tired from our trip—the comfy shoes had helped but not enough—that we just had sandwiches for dinner. Pam took her shower early, so that she could go straight to bed after her talk with Eric. It wasn't going to go well. I could tell that much.

Pam and I snuggled on the couch while we waited for Eric to show. She was quiet. And that always worried me.

"What's going on with you?"

She leaned her head against my arm. "Did I hurt your feelings when I said you weren't my mom?" I wasn't. We both knew that. But I felt like we had something; we were close and I just thought that maybe she'd be okay with me being her mom someday. Her blunt response made me doubt that.

"Don't worry about that."

"So, I did," she replied. "Awesome. Good practice for what I'm about to do with Eric. Maybe I can even make him cry. That'd be great, huh?"

I heard Eric's car pull up right as I was about to reply, so I let it remain unspoken. I was hoping that she'd be able to explain this sudden desire to see her mother. Last I heard she wanted nothing to do with her; she had been terrified of the woman.

Eric paused for a second after he opened the front door and saw us on the couch. He reanimated and closed the door. And instead of sitting in his chair, like I thought he would, he sat down next to Pam on the couch, essentially sandwiching her between us.

He leaned down to kiss the top of her head. "Sookie said that you wanted to talk to me. About your mother."

"You never talk about her. I don't know what she's like. Or who she is. Or how you even knew her. I mean, she couldn't have always been crazy." She turned away from me to look at him. "I want to meet her."

"No."

"Eric," she protested.

"Ask me all the questions you want. I'll tell you everything you want to know. But no. You're not going to meet her."

"Why not?" I'd never heard Pam whine before. It was shrill and completely unlike her. Pam could usually argue her way through anything using a solid argument and a sarcastic tone.

"You really want to know?" Pam nodded. "If she would have handled this the right way, came to me and asked for visitation rights, maybe I would have considered it. She knew where I was—if she knew where to find you, then she definitely knew where to find me. But she didn't. Your _mother_ tried to kidnap you. Do you remember that day? Do you remember how scared you were? Because I still remember the look on your face when she was carrying you away. How you slept in my bed for two weeks and how you cried every morning when I drove you to school because you were so afraid she'd come back. I won't put you through that again. _I_ won't go through that again.

"If her answer for getting back into your life after five years is trying to take you, then she's clearly not mentally stable. When you're eighteen, you can do whatever you want. But, right now, you're my child, under my care, and I will not have you around someone who I don't trust with your safety. You can be mad. Hate me. But you're not seeing her.

"Honestly, what brought this on, Pam? Why now?"

Pam was quiet for a long time after he spoke, her chin tucked to her chest. Then she sighed and straightened herself back up. She turned to look at me. It didn't look promising; I wasn't sure if I wanted to hear her explanation.

"Do you want me to go?" I asked.

"No," she replied. "Stay." She climbed into Eric's lap, and I knew it would help calm him down a little. He worked himself up with his little rant. But he'd be sweet with Pam. He always was with her.

"You're a good dad. Probably the best one ever. But I want a mom too." This is when she glanced at me. And I was stunned by how much it hurt to think that she didn't want me as her mom. Her entire face fell as she looked at me. "Sookie, no, don't. I'm making you upset. I'm saying this wrong." And then she covered her face with her hands.

Eric carefully removed them and situated her on his lap, so that she had to look at him. "Go on. I'm listening. I'm awesome and you love me, and you want a mom."

She sighed. "I can't help but wonder if I'm like her at all. And if I don't find out soon, it'll be too late."

"Because I'll have sole custody next week?" Either Bobby was a really good lawyer or Eric was buying off a judge. I wasn't sure which.

Pam shook her head. "No. It's…"

She never beat around the bush. Pam was direct and to the point without worrying about anyone's feelings. To a fault. I took her hand and squeezed it. "It's okay. Say whatever you need to say." She was holding back because of me.

"I love you, Sookie," she said sadly.

"I love you too, sweetie. Always."

"You're a good mom."

I nodded. "But I'm not _your _mom."

"You're the one who does all of the mom stuff—drives me places and makes me lunch and takes care of me and puts me to bed—but she's the mom who had me in her tummy. It shouldn't be different, but it is. I don't want to hurt your feelings. But it's just going to get worse because you're going to keep acting like my mom and I'm still not going to know her."

Eric jumped in here. "I've told you time and time again that I'll tell you anything you want to know about her."

"But how do I know you're telling the truth if I don't meet her?" she questioned, raising her voice and huffing.

"One, you're not meeting her. I don't know how to make that any clearer for you. And two, I don't lie to you. I never have. And I don't appreciate you implying that I would. I don't want you anywhere near that woman, but I don't have to lie to keep you from her. I get to do that simply by being your father. I'm sorry your mother is the way she is; you deserve better, much better, than what you receive from her. And I know you feel like meeting her will complete you or something, but, I need you to trust me on this, you are much better off not knowing her."

"That's not your decision to make, Eric," she argued back.

"It is. For about ten more years," he replied calmly, in perfect and complete control. "My offer still stands. I'll tell you everything I know about Sophie Anne. But that's where I'm drawing the line."

Pam tried to climb off his lap, but he held her, not tightly but enough to where she'd have to fight to escape. He kissed her temple. And then he sighed.

"It's okay to be mad at me." She cocked her head to the side and glared. "I love you, my child, right up to the moon—and back."

"Okay."

"I'll tuck you in," he said as he stood, still holding her in his arms, and carried her away.

And I sat there taking it all in.

It wasn't that Pam didn't want me to be her mom. She just wanted to know hers too. And I couldn't fault her that. I couldn't blame Eric for wanting to keep her away from Sophie Anne either. He was doing what he thought was best. Whether or not I agreed with him was beside the point. He was her dad. He had the final say in this. And I knew this wasn't going to be the last time they butted heads on this issue.

Eric was in her room for a long time, at least a good half hour, and when he finally came out, he stretched out on the couch, his head in my lap, his feet hanging off the end. I brushed his hair back so that it wasn't all in his eyes. His whole body heaved with a series of sighs.

"Am I making the right decision?" he asked quietly, sounding unsure of himself. Eric wasn't like that. He needed to get his boss hat back on. "Was it just a kneejerk reaction to say no? Would her meeting Sophie Anne in a public place with us there really be so bad?"

I sighed. "I don't know." I didn't. And frankly I was glad it wasn't my decision to make. The reality of being a parent hit me. Making choices that affected another person's entire life. Whatever Eric chose would change Pam's perception of him and her mother and herself. And probably me too.

"I don't either," Eric murmured.

My fingers massaged his scalp, while he sprawled out and silently worked through his thoughts. I actually thought that he had fallen asleep until his stomach growled. He groaned and rolled his head to look at me. He had worry lines marring his forehead.

I smiled, but I think it came across looking about as cheerful as vegetarian at a slaughterhouse.

"Hungry?" He nodded. "I'll make you a sandwich. Wait here." I kissed his forehead before lifting him from my lap and wandering into the kitchen to make him a grilled cheese. He ate on the couch with me curled into his side, CNN acting as our background music. I couldn't have told you a single news story that they covered. And his brain was still everywhere; I could tell that just by looking at him.

I tried to stay awake, so that he wouldn't be alone with his thoughts, but I must have fallen asleep because I had a brief memory of me staring at his Adam's apple, him cradling me in his arms, before I faded to black. Succumbed to sleep.

Thursday morning was awkward because Pam and Eric hovered around each other; they were always close to one another but never spoke or acknowledged the other. Neither looked angry, just unsettled. Like they both wanted to talk but were afraid too. And that atmosphere swirled around the house. Alexei couldn't get to work fast enough; he left at least an hour early, claiming he had things he needed to do before his shift.

Eric kissed her goodbye when he went to work, saying he loved her and her mumbling it back. She was in a dour mood when we went to the store to buy school supplies. She didn't even badger me for anything extra. Not a single pencil more than what was on her list.

But when we got back to the house, after a little ice cream bribery, I finally got her to talk to me.

"I just want to know who she is and what she's like. I want to know why she left." And my heart broke for her.

"And what happens when you meet her and she tells you something you don't want to hear? Or she has no answer for you? I know it hurts to think about, but Eric might be right. It might be better to hold off seeing her right now," I said, and she just stared back at me indignantly. "I'm not saying forever. When you get older, if you want to see her…There's no rush. I know you think there is, and you're trying not to hurt my feelings, but you won't. I understand your need to know about your mom. I asked Gran a million and one questions about my parents when I was growing up."

"What happens when you and Eric get married?" Hold the phone. Who said anything about us getting married? Because I could say with dang good certainty that it wasn't me. She rolled her eyes. "Please. Don't act all shocked and offended. We all know it's just a matter of time. Alexei and I even have a pool going. Back to the point, though, are you still going to be laid back about me meeting my mom after you've been my mom for a few years?"

"Sophie Anne will always be a part of you, and I would never deny you the opportunity to know her when it is safe and responsible to do so. When you're older."

"So, you're agreeing with Eric?" Was that what I was doing?

I knew she wanted to meet Sophie Anne, but I wasn't sure she'd be able to take it. Her intelligence was through the roof and she conducted herself like someone years older. But she was still a child. And no parent in their right mind would let their child go to Chuck E. Cheese with the person who had tried to kidnap her twice, regardless of parental status.

"I think I do." I realized when I admitted that that Eric might change his mind; I doubted it, but it was a possibility.

She nodded. "Okay."

"That's it? Just okay?" After all that drama and stress and silent treatment? The pouting? The confusion? Just okay?

"I trust your opinion." And she shrugged. She looked more like herself, straightening up her posture like Eric did.

I felt my forehead wrinkle. "Oh."

"If you and Eric both feel that way, that it's the way it's going to be. It would be futile for me to continue to fight it. I might not like your decision, at all, but I'll deal with it."

"Why weren't you this understanding yesterday?" It would have saved us all a headache.

"You were the wildcard. There was still a chance you could make Eric change his mind. Now that I know where you stand…" She trailed off. "Can we go swimming?"

It took me a few seconds, because I was still processing what had just happened. Pam saw me as an authority figure; that was weird. She was usually so well behaved that I never had to tell her to do something more than once. I'd only had to get on to her a few times, and I always felt weird doing it.

"Sure. But afterwards you need to start packing for tomorrow."

"Alexei says that you're getting Eric drunk." No more telling Alexei anything ever. "Will you take pictures? I've never even seen him drink."

"Maybe." Probably not. Maybe of him after one, but I planned to get him sloppy, happy, gropey drunk. Not something Eric would want her to see.

We went swimming at the pool—nice, relaxing. And then, after a shower to rinse off the chlorine, she started packing and I started dinner. Eric came home early again—easing into his new schedule, I guessed—and fried the catfish I'd battered. I continued working on the homemade French fries.

And when Pam got out of the shower all squeaky clean, she went straight to Eric and hugged him. I'd explained to him the conversation and her mood shift, but he still looked shocked. "Can we talk about her tonight?"

He nodded. "Of course."

Lex worked a few extra hours to cover for a co-worker since he was off for three days in a row, and Pam and Eric were talking in the living room, so I stayed in the kitchen and quadruple checked my list for the cookout. I wanted there to be a wide assortment of food to accommodate all of our friends and their diets. Most of the guys didn't have a preference either way; they'd eat whatever was set out in front of them. Amelia was a vegan. Tara didn't eat red meat. I still didn't know if the Newlins were going to show or if they had any dietary restrictions.

When Lex got home, he crept into the kitchen and ate his food without even bothering to warm it up. Within a few minutes, all the remaining food had been scarfed down. Geez Louise, that boy could eat. I'd forgotten that sixteen-year-old guys were like that before I moved in. And even after, Lex still managed to surprise me by how quickly he could chew through a meal.

"You all packed up?"

"No, but I will be by the time we leave."

I rolled my eyes. He'd just throw crap in a bag tomorrow morning. "Well, I'd certainly hope so." And then I got more serious. "You'll look after Pam this weekend, keep her out of trouble." Gran could keep both of them in line; I wasn't worried about that. It's just, if she got hurt, Bon Temps police department had already proven that they were about as quick as a three-legged racehorse at the Kentucky Derby. Alexei didn't know the area. Would he be able to get her to the hospital if something happened?

"Yes, _Eric_, damn. You worry more than him. It's nice to hear you worrying about me too, so thanks for that," he said sarcastically.

"I do worry about you. I'll probably be a wreck when you go off to college. But I know that you can take care of yourself."

He stared at me for a few seconds before shrugging. "I'm gonna go to bed." He put his plate in the dishwasher. "Good night, Sookie."

"Night, Lex."

Eric came into the bedroom soon after I did and went to take a shower. He crawled into bed with me a while later, put on his reading glasses—he was finally comfortable with me seeing him in them—and opened up his copy of _Naked Lunch_. I tilted my head against his arm and held my paperback in one hand.

"You okay?"

"Yeah. Will you be mad at me if I say I don't really want to talk about it right now?" Not even a little bit. I knew this couldn't be easy on him.

"Nope. We need to go to the grocery store tomorrow." I could make the potato salad and macaroni salad and a few other things ahead of time, so that it'd be less work on Saturday.

"Are you going to freak out over who pays?" he asked.

"Why? Do you want me to?" Eric sighed and looked like he was about to close his book, which meant another fabulous conversation about financial security. I wanted to close that down before it happened. "I figured we'd just split the cost." That seemed diplomatic enough, right?

Apparently not.

"Are you going to want to keep separate bank accounts after we get married?"

Knock me over with a feather.

It was the second time that a Northman had mentioned marriage as an inevitability rather than a possible future that day.

"I…I don't know." I hadn't really thought about it.

"I don't want us to fight over money."

"Me either."

"We're going to need to sit down and really talk about this then," he said. I nodded. He was absolutely right. "Not tonight though. I just want to go to bed."

"Then let's go to bed." I took his book out of his hand and reached across him to place them on the bedside table. And then I turned off his lamp.

Eric stretched out and I settled into the nook of his shoulder, my hand resting on his heart. "I love you."

He groaned quietly, and I could feel it reverberating in his chest. "I love you."

"We'll figure the rest out."

The kids were out the door by noon, headed to Bon Temps. Alexei did have a duffle bag, but I couldn't even guess what he might have packed. If anything. Pam's clothes were all carefully chosen and neatly folded in her suitcase. Eric gave Lex a mini-lecture before they left, but they left otherwise unscathed.

Eric and I went to the store and came out with a cart full of groceries and a couple of headaches. I'd been spoiled by Pam and Alexei. I forgot how disobedient children could be. And it didn't matter how wonderful their parents had been, nothing could calm them down. One little girl shrieked for ten minutes after her mom refused to buy her Lucky Charms cereal. Another little boy held his arm out knocked coffee cans to the floor. And the little toddler in the cart ahead of us in line kept cussing at us. In the car, I pulled the Tylenol from my purse and handed him two pills, which he tried to dry swallow since we didn't have anything to drink.

"Our kids aren't going to act like that," I said as I shook the bottle, dropping a few pills into my hand. Eric started coughing. "Do you want me to run back inside and get you a bottle of water?"

He shook his head and continued his coughing fit. Finally, it stopped. And he looked at me, his blue eyes wide. "Do you even realize what you said?"

It took me a few seconds to remember exactly what I'd said. And when I did, I covered my face with my hands, embarrassed that he might look at me and see how bright red I was blushing.

Oh shit.

I couldn't believe I'd said "our kids."

"Oh my god. Oh shit. I didn't…I didn't mean it like that. I mean, I was just thinking about those kids. And how different they are from Pam and Lex. Neither of them would ever do that. And how I'd be so unhappy if my children acted like that in public."

"Sookie, it's fine. You just stunned me a bit is all," he replied. "And, for the record, you're right. Our kids aren't going to act like that."

And, surprisingly, hearing him say my words back to me, didn't freak me out. It made my uterus do a happy dance though. She was all for having Eric Northman's babies. A lot of them.

Children were on my mind the rest of the day. While I was cooking. And trying to read. While I was meticulously scrubbing the house clean. Sometimes it was distant, hazy, dream-like possible future children. And other times, I was worrying about what Pam and Lex were doing, if there was any threat that we'd overlooked. I hoped they were being good for Gran. And I hoped they were having fun.

Eric and I went to bed early, awake just long enough after our heads hit the pillows to whisper our goodnights to each other before powering down.

I woke in the morning practically on top of him—one arm clutching his bicep, the other around his shoulder, one leg straddling his. And he was uncharacteristically still asleep. That damn internal clock of his must have gotten unplugged. I had no idea how me assaulting him during the night hadn't woken him, but he was out of it. I kissed his forehead before climbing out of bed to make him breakfast. It was a rare occurrence since he was always up before me, and he never let me get out of bed if I woke him.

I made up some scrambled eggs and toast because I really didn't feel like making something elaborate with all the other cooking we'd need to do for the barbecue. And by the time I had finished, Eric had emerged from our room. We ate in the living room, another rarity, on the couch, my feet in his lap.

We stayed that way until we couldn't put it off any longer. We both knew that showering together would inevitably lead to a huge time delay, so we went in separately. While I showered, Eric soaked the asparagus and shucked the corn on the cob. marinated the burgers—veggie and otherwise. Then I took over so he could get a quick shower. We worked well together. I picked up right where he left off. I finished shucking the corn and had just started to work on the kabobs when he kissed my temple.

Eric put all the beer we had bought into two coolers and filled them with ice. I'd told Jason and Barry to both bring more beer. I wanted to see Eric relax so much that I started giggling thinking about him drunk. And then I had to lie and explain why I was laughing, saying that I was just really excited about seeing all of our friends. He didn't buy it, but thankfully let it drop.

People started showing up a little before noon—Jason and Amy were actually the first two there, which surprised me on multiple levels. It had to be Amy's influence because Jason was the kind to be late to his own funeral. But they were there with smiles on their faces and food in their hands. Jase went to go help Eric with the grill. "Man stuff," he said, while beating on his chest. I was tempted to remind him that it was Gran who taught him how to grill and that she taught me the exact same as him. But it seemed like a fruitless argument, so, instead, I took Amy's salad and put it in the fridge, letting him carry his cooler outside.

Tara and JB were next, bringing two trays of brownies. Everyone else trickled in after that. I got hugs from both Sam and Barry. Some of the teachers from my school showed. Ames practically jumped in my arms in excitement, while Tray tried to pull her back. She talked a mile a minute, like she had a time limit and it was running out, before he reminded her that they'd be there all afternoon.

Most went straight to the backyard, but I stayed inside fussing over everything and waiting to hear either the phone—the front gate calling to confirm guests—or the doorbell. Finally, I thought that we were done, that everyone who said they'd be there was already there, when I heard a knock at the front door. I skipped to see who it was and was mildly surprised to see the Newlins standing there.

Sarah looked like a doll in her pink sundress, a bit like Miss Texas Barbie. She had on an apologetic smile. "I'm so sorry we didn't RSVP; our schedule changed last minute. I was hoping there'd still be room for us." And then she held out the bowl in her hands. "I made pasta salad."

I didn't buy the bull larky about a change of plans, if only because of the sourpuss look Steve got when she mentioned.

"Of course, the more the merrier. Everyone else is out back. You can head out, if you'd like." No one needed to tell Steve twice. He didn't look like he wanted to be in the same zip code as me. I led him to the backyard door and he slinked out.

"Is there anything I can do to help?" she asked.

"You can help me set everything out on the table. The food should be ready soon."

Sarah and I worked together and got everything set up really quickly. She'd obviously set a table or two in her life. We chatted about the weather and how move-in was going for her, and then we went into the backyard. She looked around confused for a few seconds.

"Pam's not here? I was looking forward to getting to talk to her some more. She seems spunky."

That was one word for it.

"No, she and Alexei went to stay at my Gran's house for the weekend."

"That's so sweet, staying with their grandmother." Uh. I'd debated over whether or not I needed to tell her the truth. And it was getting more difficult for me to side step.

"Actually, um, Alexei is Eric's younger brother who lives with us, and Pam is Eric's daughter."

She gasped like she was embarrassed. "Oh. Oh my stars, I didn't know. No wonder she reacted so strangely when I said it. So you're Pam's step-mom then?"

Deep breath. "No. Eric and I aren't married yet." Did I really just say that we weren't married _yet_? Geez. I hoped that didn't get back to Eric.

"Oh," Sarah replied, but she drew it out so that it lasted a good three seconds. She looked at me like I was the whore of Babylon. And then she seemed to recover her manners. At least a little bit. "Oh. I see." Fucking awesome cookout.

I introduced her to a few of the other Bon Temp girls, figuring that they'd get along with her just fine. And I sought out Eric. I needed him. It had never been a big deal to me that Eric and I were living together even though we weren't married. But I'd heard it in church all my life that it was a sin. But so was lying and I was sure Sarah Newlin wouldn't have give me the same look of contempt if she found out that I'd told a lie not forty five minutes before she'd shown up at my house. Mine. She was treating me like this in my own home.

Eric was sitting in a lawn chair with an empty beer bottle in his hand. He looked at me and he immediately held out his arms. He always knew what I needed. I slid into his lap and he put his forehead to mine, so that he could whisper and only I could hear. "Who do I need to punch?"

I smiled at that. I didn't know how he could say a handful of words and make me happy again. But he could. And he did. "No one. But maybe I'll punch her later".

He quirked an eyebrow. "Her?"

"Our new neighbor, Sarah."

He snorted. "He husband's a prick too. I could punch him for you if you want."

I shook my head. "I love you."

"I love you too, dear one."

I took his beer bottle. "I'll get you another."

"Are you trying to get me wasted?" I nodded and he threw back his head and laughed. I was sure even the neighbors a few houses down heard it. "Just remember that this is what you wanted."

"Noted. Also, the food's ready, so everyone can go inside and get whatever they want." Eric made the announcement, while I got him another beer for him, and me a glass of spiked lemonade. Everyone sat around eating and talking and laughing and drinking. Sarah talked to Tara a little bit, but Steve remained sullen the entire time. I didn't know what his problem was, why he was so pissed at the world, but I wasn't going to let it ruin my day.

After everyone was done, I put some music on and mixed me up a gin and tonic. And then another when I found that I was still upset over Sarah. Though alcohol probably wasn't the best solution for dealing with my problems with her. Tara was drinking too and we started dancing together like we did back in high school at the parties. And Ames joined in, even though she was a little further gone than we were. I even got to dance with Eric for the first time in a while. I really needed to go out to Glasir again. I'd forgotten how much I loved to dance. And that was just unacceptable.

I didn't know how much everyone had been drinking, but I knew the little bin we'd set up for bottles had already overflowed. I stuck with Tara and Ames for most of the night, though I was pretty sure at one point I clung to Jason and told him that I loved his new girlfriend because she made him more punctual.

And I watched Eric a lot, just to see how he acted. For a long time, he looked unaffected even though I'd supplied him with at least five bottles. Then I started to notice little things—he was louder than normal and his smile never left his face and he put his arm around Barry and he kept hugging Tray, who just laughed every time and hugged him back. And his walk was a little awkward, not like his normal smooth stride.

And he laughed a lot. Probably more than I'd ever heard him laugh before all rolled together. He and Barry would bit their heads close together and giggle like seventh grade girls at their inside jokes.

Finally, Ames said that she was tired of Eric groping her man and sent me over there as a sacrificial hugging buddy. Not that I protested. Eric's ridiculous happy smile got even wider when he saw I was coming over. He turned to Barry and said, "See, I told you she wasn't avoiding me because I'm drinking. She's the one that wants me to drink. She said so." And then he laughed.

I nodded. "That's true. And look at you."

"This is nothing," Barry said. "I should show you the video from my twenty-first birthday," Eric didn't even look embarrassed, just laughed loudly, joyously.

"You pass out in a tree one time and no one ever forgets it." Eric wrapped me tightly in his arms, my back to his chest, and kissed the top of my head.

The Newlins were the first to head out. Then some of the teachers I liked, not the ones who bitched me out or said that I didn't do anything all day and that it was pointless to pay me. Then Amy and Jason, who I couldn't remember if I'd seen drinking at all. Sam left pretty quickly too, but he said he had to drive back and close the bar. Then Tara and JB; he was driving home.

Ames and Tray left too but only after a round of hugs—most of them between Eric and Tray.

It left just me and Eric and Barry. I really liked Barry. He seemed really chill. And he told me stories about all the places Eric used to pass out when he was drunk—so far we were up to a tree, a slide at a public park, a washing machine, and a Waffle House. And Eric didn't even try to defend himself, just laughed at the stories and nuzzled me. Occasionally his hands would start to wander and I'd have to remind him that we had company.

Barry laughed when Eric told him to leave. "What no goodbye kiss?"

"That was one time. Like ten years ago," Eric replied, laughing. Eric had kissed Barry once while drunk? Huh. I wondered if I could them to recreate it for me. "I know you're still in love with me, but, shit, man, you need to get past it. I'm marrying Sookie."

And there it was again.

"Whatever man. We both know how much you love me. Stop using Sookie as a cover. It's not fair to her." Barry winked at me and then turned back to Eric. "Call me a cab, lover. I'm too plastered to drive."

We talked for another half hour before I, the most sober of the three of us, was able to locate the number in the phonebook to call Barry a cab. He'd have to come back tomorrow and get his car, but it'd be fine overnight. He gave me a hug goodbye and then Eric. "Night, guys. This was fun. We should do it again."

Eric smiled and scooped me up in his arms and stumbled to our bedroom.

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A/N: Thoughts?


	32. Wedding Rings, Onion Rings

A/N: Hello, lovely readers. I'd like to thank you for all of your reviews. I'm glad you all liked Drunk Eric as much as I did. I'd like to thank SMFogleman and sapfirerose for being completely awesome. They've made my first week back at college entertaining with all of the crazy twitter and gchat messages about BB.

This chapter is a bit shorter and more of a transitional chapter to get to the next part of the story.

Disclaimer: Not mine. Not mine.

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I woke to him relocating my arm so that it was covering his eyes. I groaned. "What are you doing?" By the sound of my voice, you'd think that I was just run through a wood chipper. That's about as good as I felt too. Hello, hangover. So lovely to see you this fine morning.

"Too fucking bright," he replied, holding the arm securely to his face. He sounded worse off than me. If that was even physically possible. But his 'too fucking bright' problem was easily fixable.

"If you'll give me back my arm, I'll go shut the blinds." I tried to get up, but he didn't loosen his grip at all. "Eric," I protested.

"No. Stay."

Geez Louise. Are you fucking kidding me? "It's like two feet to the window."

"No." He sounded worse than Pam when she didn't get her way.

"Then stop whining about it being too bright." Raising my voice even slightly grated.

"I wasn't whining. You asked. I told you."

"Fine. Whatever," I replied. "Give me my arm back."

He groaned when I tried to pry his fingers from my forearm. "What is your malfunction?"

I could think of a million rational things to reply to explain my pissy mood—mostly related to my overconsumption of alcohol and the subsequent hangover—but none of them would come out. Instead I blurted, "Stop telling people that we're getting married."

I was so shocked that I'd said it that my jaw fell open for the several very long seconds of complete silence. My free hand covered my mouth. And I squeezed my eyes shut tight until he spoke. Where the fuck had that come from? That was not what I meant to say. At all. Not even close.

"What?"

And then I had to try and explain what had just happened.

"Um. Last night. I think…I'm pretty sure that you told Barry that we were getting married. And…I…you haven't asked yet. I never said I'd marry you."

He groaned or sighed or something. He made some indecipherable noise. "You're mad because of something I said when I was plastered?"

And stupid Defensive Sookie couldn't accept that this was a logical point. I was annoying myself with my inability to let this go. "It wasn't the first time you've said it. When we were talking about money. Pam even thinks we are. And Alexei. And fucking Sarah Newlin thinks we're living in sin or some shit. And then…the way you said it to Barry was so blunt."

He finally released my arm. Through squinted, tired eyes, he looked at me. "Do we really have to talk about this right now?"

Rational Sookie lost out to Stupid Sookie no matter how well thought out her speeches and explanations were. Stupid Sookie was on a roll this morning. And nothing could stop her. "Yes, Eric, this is important."

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean that as a question. We aren't talking about this right now."

Oh shit.

"Eric," I shrieked, hurting my own ears. "Don't tell me what to do. I'm not your child."

"Then stop acting like one."

Uh.

I grabbed my pillow and jerked the comforter away from him as I climbed out of bed. So pissed. And then I did something really mature. I pulled up the blinds so that the sun was magnifying through them, the light directly on his face. I marched out of the room and went to the living room, lying down on the couch, the comforter over my head despite the August heat.

The part of my brain that wasn't muddled by hangover and idiocy knew that it was probably for the best not to discuss marriage when we were both in a horrible state—crabby, headachy, short-tempered. The other part was still really mad.

I woke up again to Eric pulling the heavy covers off of my sweat-drenched face, letting stray rays of sunlight find me. He handed me a glass of water and a couple of pain pills, but didn't say a word. Or look directly at me. Or even do his 'I'm moody' sigh.

After gulping them down, I said, "Thank you" quietly, hoping that it wouldn't aggravate my throat or head. He shrugged and stood awkwardly next to me for a few seconds, and I really thought we were going to start arguing again. Instead, he lifted my feet up, sat down where they had been, and placed them in his lap. And then he turned on Looney Tunes.

I hadn't watched Looney Tunes in ages. I remembered that Gran had old VHS tapes that she had recorded episodes on and that Jason and I used to watch them every Saturday morning. I could have quoted every word from start to finish when I was nine. And then, we just stopped. Jason got too old for cartoons. And I never wanted to watch them alone.

It was weird to watch episodes with Eric. But nice.

We were quiet, except for the occasional chuckle at Wile E. Coyote's antics. I always thought that the Road Runner was kind of a jerk and felt bad for the coyote. And all the money he spent buying poorly-made Acme products.

After the third episode, Eric turned his head to look at me. "I'm sorry."

"Me too." I was an idiot this morning. My brain-to-mouth filter had been shot to hell. And I was sure I'd given him the wrong idea. "I love you."

"I love you." And then he sighed. "Do you want to marry me?"

My heart moon-bounced around in my chest and I stammered.

Eric patted my legs. "I'm not asking you if you will. I'm asking if you'd want to."

"Of course I want to," I replied. "I thought that was clear by now." I thought we'd discussed this already, that I was in this for more than a week or a month or a year. That I wanted to be his family. And wanted him and Pam and Alexei to be mine.

"I thought so too until this morning when you freaked out on me over telling Barry, one of my closest friends, that I planned on marrying you. What was I supposed to think? And, just so you know, I'm not going to marry you just because you're worried about what our idiot neighbors think."

"I don't care what she thinks."

He cocked his head. "Yes, you do."

I hated it when he was right. She reminded me so much of home, of how I'd grown up and the kind of woman Gran always wanted me to be—put-together and princess and married to the man who was no doubt her high school sweetheart. And I wasn't her. I couldn't be her. I wasn't even sure I ever wanted to be her. But, yeah, it bugged me that Sarah looked down on my life with Eric and saw it as something less than her life with Steve.

"Fine, you're right. I do. But I'll get over it eventually."

He nodded and almost smiled. "I'd like it if, after we're married, you'd consider having a joint bank account with me." He sneaked that bomb in like a ninja. Yay. Money talk. My absolute favorite thing ever. I started to interrupt, but he kept talking. "I'm not saying that you don't also keep a separate account. But if we had one account for groceries and bills and stuff then we wouldn't argue every month over who pays for what."

It wasn't a bad arrangement.

It could be worse.

A lot worse.

"What about a prenup?" I didn't have a problem with it. I wasn't marrying him (shit, did I just say that?) for his money.

I had to keep reminding myself, and him, that he hadn't asked. I hadn't asked. And yet we both talked about marriage as an inevitable, not-so-distant future. I was torn between running for the hills and envisioning him in a tux.

"If you want me to sign one, I will," he replied. And I rolled my eyes.

"I meant for me, smartass." He shrugged. "What does that mean?"

"If we divorced, I don't think you'd take all the money and the house and leave Pam and Lex without enough to live on. If you want one, then I'll get Bobby to draw one up. But if not, I don't care."

"How can you be that blasé about it? About everything you've worked so hard to get?"

"I'm not. I worked hard to provide for my family. For Pam and Alexei. For you," he replied and I sighed.

"Eric, we've only been together a few months. You've been doing this for a decade. None of this was for me."

He shook his head slowly, wincing slightly. His head had to still be hurting. I knew mine was and this conversation wasn't exactly easing the pain. "It was for you before I ever knew you. It was for our life together when our lives were still separate."

I couldn't help the way my stomach flipped. "You're such a sap." And I loved it.

He shrugged and smiled.

A little while later, Eric and I drove to Dixie Dog to get some deep-fried goodness. Neither of us changed out of our pajamas. I hadn't even put on makeup, though I did make sure to brush my teeth. We both ordered hamburgers, though I wanted fried pickles and he wanted tots. And we split an order of onion rings. And just like the first time we ate there together, we ended up sneaking bites from the other's food.

We lounged around the house all day in our pajamas, occasionally watching movies, occasionally talking through movies. We didn't even think of getting off the couch when Alexei called and said that he and Pam were on their way back. Eric was terrified about Lex driving the hour back, but he pretended to be fine with it. His body was tense—almost like he was ready to attack if necessary—for the entire hour and fifteen minutes until Lex pulled his Mustang into the driveway.

Pam ran into the house and went straight to the bathroom, not even yelling a hello to us as she raced past. Lex dropped his and Pam's bags into a heap on the living room floor just inside the door and plopped down into Eric's big, comfy chair.

"She made me listen to Taylor Swift for the entire fucking drive. I wanted to turn into on-coming traffic."

Eric didn't find that amusing.

"Did you have fun?" I asked, trying to divert the boy's attention from Eric's scowling.

"It wasn't bad. But it sucks that we have to start school this week. Summer went by too quickly," he replied, stretching out his long legs to rest his feet on the coffee table. He'd hit another growth spurt at the beginning of the month and was only a few inches shorter than Eric now. But he hadn't fully grown into his new height yet so he looked a little awkward when he walked. He'd acclimate to his new self soon.

"Was Pam any trouble?" Eric asked.

Alexei snorted. "When is she not trouble?"

"Wednesday afternoons between two and three thirty," Pam replied as she walked back into the room. She climbed straight into Eric's lap. She really was a daddy's girl through and through. "And every other Thursday."

Eric wrapped his arms around her tightly. "You didn't make anyone cry this weekend did you?"

"Only this one boy in Sunday School. He tried to kiss me, so I punched him."

"My daughter," Eric said quietly, a proud, smug smile on his face. "Besides that, you were well-behaved for Gran? I'm going to call her and ask."

"Oh, Eric, you worry too much. It'll give you wrinkles," she replied.

"That didn't answer my question." His had sexy boss voice on. And I loved it.

"Gran loves me."

Eric turned back to Lex and stared at him, not saying a word, just waiting for an answer. Lex's eyes flicked from Eric to Pam and back to Eric. "It was just a little…incident. No big deal. Everyone's fine." Definitely not the right answer. Even I knew that.

"Alexei Nikolas." Oh, busting out the middle name. That didn't bode well for the boy.

"It was a small kitchen fire. No one was hurt. It just ruined a dish towel or two." Lex tried to sound reassuring, to downplay it, but I don't know how much he convinced Eric. "Honestly."

He looked hard at his daughter. "Were you cooking again?"

Pam rolled her eyes. "Eric it isn't a big deal. Gran was in there too. How do you know she wasn't the one who started the fire?"

"Did she?"

"No, but you didn't know that. You just assumed it was me," she replied indignantly.

"You have a history of burning down kitchens."

"That was one time. And it didn't burn down, if you recall." She crawled out of Eric's lap and crossed the couch to sit on mine. Pam put her head on my shoulder. "Why is he so cranky?"

I brushed my fingers through her perfectly straightened hair. "He's still a little hungover." Eric glared at me, so I stuck my tongue out at him. Because we were both so mature. "I love you, Mr. Northman."

"Love you too, dear one."

"Did you take pictures?" Pam asked.

"Nope. Sorry."

She scoffed. "Why not?"

"I forgot." I was too drunk to remember. Same thing, right? "Sorry. Maybe next time."

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A/N: So yeah, thoughts?


	33. First Day Of My Life

A/N: Thank you, dear readers, for you lovely reviews. You've been so patient waiting for updates. And I adore you all for it. You've been amazing.

Disclaimer: Not mine.

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"Eric, your daughter still isn't ready," she yelled as she rushed like a whirlwind of legs, silk, and hair past me to our room to put on her heels. She always said "your daughter" when she was upset with Pam. Sookie would never admit it, but she was just as nervous and anxious about her first day back at school in the library with all the kids as Pam was. Instead, she turned those nerves into annoyance and perfectionism. And Pam was running a little slower than usual, the way she always did when her brain was bogged down because of over-thinking. Which just made the whole situation worse.

I located Pam in her room, smoothing her hair back and turning her head to look at herself from various angles. And then repeating the process. "I hate it. The white headband isn't the same shade of white as the capris, and it looks tacky. I'm going to change." She made a move for her closet, but I stepped in front of her. That couldn't happen. Again.

"No, no. There's no time for that. You're running late. And Sookie will kill us both if you change your clothes again. You look beautiful, Pam. Grab your backpack and I'll get you a PopTart for you to take with you." She'd already changed into three different and separate outfits this morning. Three outfits that weren't the one she set out last night so that we could avoid this problem. Personally, I didn't understand what the big deal was.

But Sookie was freaking out about what she was wearing too.

Maybe it was a female thing I'd never understand.

Or maybe it was because I was my own boss and no one else could really call me out on it if I wore the same pair of jeans and my favorite black shirt over and over again. Then again, girls in general were just meaner. I was glad Sookie was around to help Pam through all this girl stuff because I really didn't know the right answers. I didn't even know the questions.

It was easier with Lex. I knew what he was going through, what he'd gone through. Me having Pam so young was a big deterrent for him against unprotected sex. Yes, he was a nightmare on occasion. But he was never unredeemable.

I had no idea what Pam was going to go through. But I knew I wasn't going to be pleasant when she wanted to date. I'd have to buy her pepper spray. And teach her self-defense. And maybe get her a shotgun and make Sookie teach her how to shoot.

I left Pam to go pull out a Strawberry PopTart from the box. The big bacon and eggs breakfast I had prepared hadn't gone to waste though. Lex had licked his plate clean. And then Pam's. I poured coffee—black, just the way she liked it—into the new thermos I had gotten for Sookie, so that if she was running late she could take the coffee with her. She really couldn't function in the morning without a cup.

From the kitchen, I could hear the clack clack as she approached. She was stunning. Like always. And I felt my mouth contort into a smile. I crossed the distance between us with long strides and circled my arms around her, resting my forehead against hers. Fuck, I loved this woman. So much. "You're going to have a great day. I know it." She would. She was kind and caring and loved her kids. She was a great librarian.

"You're much more confident than I am about that." She sighed and closed her eyes. "It's time for us to leave."

"I'll get her."

I kissed Sookie and handed her the thermos, which she smiled thankfully for. In Pam's room, I found her staring at her backpack. She hadn't moved from her spot. "Time to go."

"I don't want to go," she replied.

Exactly what my morning needed—more insolence. "Pam, this isn't negotiable."

"Not even if I can present a compelling argument why I should be allowed to skip?" It was our long-standing agreement that if she could convince me of her perspective in a logical and reasonable manner, then she'd get her way. She'd never tried to argue about school before. Maybe because she knew that it wouldn't work. She had to have been desperate to try it now.

"There is literally nothing that you could say to me right now to convince me to allow you to miss your first day of school."

She put her hands on her hips and stared me down. "Nothing? Not even if I told you that I've been puking." She was argumentative this morning. Fantastic. I'm sure her new teacher would love that. I'd be called in the first day. Or worse, Sookie would have to deal with it.

"You haven't been puking, so you'd have to go anyway. And, I'd probably punish you for lying to me. Grab your backpack. There will be no more discussion. You are going to school. Right now."

For several seconds, she glared at me, testing my last iota of patience with her. And then she finally jutted her eyes away, grabbed her backpack, and pranced out of the room. She was standing next to Sookie by the front door, while she talked to Alexei. Lex gave Sookie a hug and walked out of the house.

"I love you," I said to her.

And Sookie half-smiled as she said it back. She was still all nerves. I made a mental note to do something for her to fix that. My list was piling up. It was going to be a busy day for me too.

I looked at Pam, still in a pissy mood, half-hiding behind Sookie. "I love you right up to the moon—and back."

"I love you too." But it was all mumbly.

"Have a good day."

I left the house soon after them, needing to meet with my accountant and lawyer and sign off on paychecks. And Barry and I were meeting for lunch. It was going to be a hectic day, and I knew that the sooner I got started, the sooner it'd be over with.

The first thing I did was make a call to the flower shop.

After several hours in my office chair—combing through my finances for each business I had a stake in or owned and through my own personal accounts, listening to Bobby explain precisely what needed to be signed and when and by who, and filling out inventory lists until I thought carpal tunnel had set in—Barry finally showed up to relieve me. Any longer in my office, and I was going to go all "The Yellow Wallpaper" and start seeing a person in the patterns on the walls and go insane trying to get him out.

We went to a greasy little diner down the street. And I decided to eat completely unhealthily even though I knew it'd probably come back to haunt me. I ordered a double bacon mushroom and Swiss burger with onion rings. Barry's plain cheeseburger and fries looked almost healthy in comparison.

We talked about El Gallo and how Alexei was doing. Maybe I was controlling or nosy, but I liked to know if he was doing his job and being respectful. With him leaving for college next year, I was worried that he hadn't had time to develop a good work ethic. School came easy for him, and I didn't know how he'd do with something that wasn't so natural to him. I wanted to see he could actually try. And it seemed he could. Barry said that the manager said he was a model employee.

And it made me proud of him.

Then we talked about buying up some real estate and if either of us had the funds to take on a big project like that. Barry thought that he did, but wasn't sure if the risk would be worth it for him.

"Maybe we should hold off," Barry said. "You're going to have to pay for a wedding soon, right? I mean, if you ever get up the nerve to ask her."

"I'm not fucking nervous," I replied. That wasn't it at all.

Barry leaned forward, placing his joined hands on the table. "How long have you had the ring?" Since July.

"It doesn't matter how long I've had the ring. The point is that I'm not scared."

"Right. So you're not a pussy who's afraid to give her the ring. You're just taking your sweet time for the sheer enjoyment of it. Seriously, you love her. Alexei loves her. Pam loves her. I'd fucking marry her from everything you've told me about her. What's the real reason you haven't asked her?"

He stared at me.

I'd thought it was a rhetorical question, but evidently not. I fold and unfolded and refolded my hands, placing them on the table and in my hair and back on the linoleum. And Barry just kept staring.

We'd been friends a long time, since I walked into his recently-deceased father's pub looking for a job. Barry gave it to me on the spot without a resume or a proper interview, and he trained me himself—first as a busboy, then a bartender, then a manager. He helped me rent a tiny, shitty house. Showed me how to invest what little money I had saved up over the years. He was only a few years older than me, but those first few months out of my father's house, I'd followed him around like he was the Messiah and I was Simon-Peter. If he'd asked me to step out of the boat and try walking on water, I probably would have without a moment's hesitation.

He was there when I found out about Sophie Anne, about Pam. Barry worked around my schedule so that I could work extra-hours to buy baby stuff, but still have every weekend off. He'd even watched her a few times while I was trying to get custody of Alexei. He never questioned the logic or intelligence of my plan to get him.

And he was here now, one of my closest friends. Asking me a question that I hadn't admitted to anyone. I hadn't even let me dwell on it too long. I had the ring. Why hadn't I asked?

I made it home after Alexei, but before Pam and Sookie. I only saw him briefly in the kitchen, devouring a punchbowl-sized serving of Beef Raman before he ran up to get ready for work. He was out the door before I had a chance to ask him about his classes or his day or anything. I'd have to remember to do that when he got home.

I pulled the chicken and brine out of the fridge and moved the pieces to a rack to dry. While the excess brine dripped off, I put potatoes on to boil for mashed potatoes. Once I was happy with the chicken, I coated it with batter and started frying it up. Sookie came in when I was nearly finished and kissed the back of my neck.

"I can take over if you want."

I shook my head. She'd had a stressful day. "Don't worry about it. I've got it. You go relax."

"At least let me help with the potatoes." I glanced over at her and into those determined eyes. She wasn't going to give up. It was one of those things that I loved about her, but also annoyed the crap out of me most days.

"Sure. Thanks." I plucked a thigh from the oil and put it on the rack to drip. "How was it?"

I watched as she drained all the hot water from the pot and turn the cold water on in bursts. And she sighed. "It dragged on and on. And it went by so quickly. If that makes a lick of sense."

"It does."

"And thank you for the flowers. They were the highlight of my day. I left mine at school. But Pam brought her daisies home." She looked up from the potatoes she was peeling. And smiled. That smile that still made me want to tangle my fingers in her hair and kiss her every time I saw it. "She lit up when she saw that they were hers." I made a note of that. Pam liked getting flowers too; I'd made a good decision today.

"I'm glad you liked them." I pulled the last piece of chicken from the grease and onto the rack to drip all the oil off. I rotated a few pieces. But I was basically done, so I moved to help Sookie peel the potatoes. I loved how we navigated making dinner together. How it was natural. And easy.

And I wanted it to always be this natural and easy.

"What did my flowers mean? Orange blossom and ivy? That has to mean something. No one just gives that," she said, her voice leading, trying to get an answer out of me.

But I couldn't tell her, not without asking her.

And was I ready to ask her? Was this what I wanted? Was this what was best for me and us and Lex and Pam?

"They mean we probably need to talk tonight. In the library." The library was practically holy ground for us. Many important steps in our relationship had started in that library. The first time we'd had sex. Discussions on where we were going, what we wanted. It'd be perfect for this…talk.

"Should I be worried?" she asked, already looking miles past worried.

"No, dear one." I just have something to ask you. "Not at all."

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A/N: I think I'm going to tease a bit of the next chapter either on Twitter or in review replies. I haven't decided which yet. If you want a tease that is. And the chapter title comes from a Bright Eyes song of the same name.


	34. You and Me and All Other People

A/N: Many times I feel like my A/N is more of a throwaway, but this one is important to me. As most of you know, this is my first attempt at SVM fanfic, and I have to say that I have been overwhelmed by love and support from the moment I posted the first chapter. I never suspected, never dreamed, that April Showers would be so well-liked. This story has hit 1,000 reviews, and I want to thank you all for that-for your support and comments and criticism. They've helped me grow and continue on when it gets tough to write. So I'm dedicating the chapter to all my lovely reviewers. I hope you like it.

Disclaimer: Not mine. Not mine.

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No person in their right mind stays perfectly calm after someone close to them, someone they love, someone they're not sure they want to live without, says, "We need to talk."

"We need to talk" is like the death knell for a relationship.

It had been a long day. Between Pam trying to bribe me into letting her stay in the library with me all day. She promised me everything from her entire book collection to the location of Eric's secret hiding spot. Where I was assured I'd find something I needed to see. I knew she was worried, anxious, and I was too. The first day of school was always a whirlwind, and I knew that I needed to keep my feet firmly on the ground. For both of our sakes.

When the first bell rang, I escorted Pam to her classroom. She walked beside me like a lamb to its slaughter. Just outside the door, she took a deep breath, straightened her posture and let out a huff. "I'm a Northman. I can do this," she murmured to herself. Then she looked at me. "Eric would be able to do this, right?"

"He could have. And you can." I patted the top of her head like Eric always did. "Meet me in the library after the final bell, and you can tell me all about your day."

My day was pretty intense. I added all the new students into the system, starting with the kindergarteners and working my way up. And there must have been a baby boom in Shreveport, because the kindergarten class was overflowing, and my simple menial task took until lunch, though I'll admit that I smiled when I added Pam's name to the list. I wondered how she was doing, if she really had managed to make Ginger her minion. If anyone could do it, it'd be Pam. Say what you will about Pam, but she knew how to get what she wanted.

Though I'd spent the days before school re-organizing the library, there was still a lot that needed to be done. I straightened up the shelves. Loaded programs onto the new PCs. Made construction paper bookmarks that were shaped like pencils and crayons and various other school supplies. Did a little dusting.

The flowers from Eric arrived just after lunch. I'd been surprised to see two bouquets until I saw that the card for one of them read "Pam." He was always so sweet with her; it had been one of the first things I knew about him. He was a good dad. With Pam and Alexei both.

I loved that about him.

The day dragged on even though I was busy with tasks, and I was a little surprised to see Pam walk into the library after a bell, not even realizing that it was the final bell of the day. She went straight into my office, only glancing at me to scowl after spying the two bouquets on my desk. Until I said one was for her. And her entire face changed.

She lit up.

"Really?"

And she went to look at the pink Gerber daisies, completely ignoring my orange blossoms, somehow supernaturally knowing exactly which belonged to her. Pam snatched the card, her eyes sliding back and forth as she read the lines. And she smiled.

"How was your day?" I asked.

"Not too bad." But I had the feeling that if I had asked two minutes previously, her answer would have been more Debbie Downer, a little less Suzie Sunshine. I didn't know what Eric had said to her, but it seemed to cheer her up. "I have three minions. One enemy. And two invites to birthday parties. And I need you or Eric to sign some crap Mrs. Jackson gave me."

I continued working on my display shelf for the Newbery Honors books. It was supposed to be done already, but there hadn't been enough time during the day. "Actually, your dad would need to sign those. It's a parental consent form for field trips, right?"

"I don't know. Why can't you just do it?"

"I'm not your mom."

Pam scoffed.

"Are we back to that again? If you and Eric were married, you'd be able to sign off on it, even though you didn't give birth to me." She rolled her eyes. "What are you so worried about? Marrying Eric and being my mom isn't going to be that bad. You look terrified every time anyone brings it up. I know better; you just freak out about new things and worry like it's the apocalypse anytime Eric tries to move forward. I know better. But you're going to give Eric a complex."

She was far too observant.

And then Eric had to go and be all "We need to talk," while I was peeling potatoes. And I held a hot potato for so long that I was worried it had seared my fingerprints off. He hadn't said it in his happy, cheerful, optimistic voice. It sounded like bad news. But what kind of person would give flowers to someone before they broke up with them? Eric wouldn't do that. Would he? What if they were meant to soften the blow? Like, "Hey, I'm dumping you, but here is something pretty to remember me by."

I didn't even notice how quiet dinner was until Pam interrupted the silence.

"Why do both of you look like you're about to puke?" I looked to Eric—found him staring back at me—and then turned to look at Pam. But neither of us spoke. "Did someone die? Was it Bill?" Her second question sounded a little too giddy.

"No one died," Eric replied gruffly. "Eat your corn."

"I don't like corn."

Eric dropped his fork to his plate. And the clank echoed through the room. "I didn't ask your dietary preferences. I said to eat."

"What crawled up your butt and died?"

And before Eric had a chance to yell—and he did look like he was going to yell, though he hardly ever did—I put my hand on her arm. "Pam. Behave please." I hadn't seen Eric act this way since Bill was loitering around trying to mess up my life. It was like Bill had a key to my apartment all over again.

I checked Pam's assignment folder after dinner, and I set out all of the paperwork Eric would need to sign. I sat at the table reading _Jane Eyre_, while Pam did her math homework. Well, she complained about her math homework for about half an hour and then finally did it perfectly. Every problem correct.

And Eric went for a run. A long run. But when he came back, he seemed to be mellowed out. The endorphin high had done wonders; he was even smiling. Before jumping in the shower, he kissed my forehead and signed off on the permission slips.

I waited eagerly for him to finish in the shower, torn between wanting to join him and terrified that he was going to break up with me. It was an irrational fear. But Pam was right. I tended to react badly when Eric tried to move our relationship forward. And maybe that had given him the wrong idea. I wanted a chance to fix that. I needed a chance to fix that. And I didn't want it to be too late.

I always felt like I was playing catch up with him. He always knew what he wanted and wasn't afraid to say it or go after it. Me, I was different. And he was constantly pushing me to be more open. I loved that I could be open with him. But there were times when I reverted, when I turned back into that weak little girl that had allowed Bill Compton to run her life for so many years. The girl who kept her mouth shut.

And Eric wanted me to talk. To share.

He came out of our bedroom wearing normal every day clothes—jeans and a white shirt—which I found strange because he could have just changed into sweats or pajamas. But he got dressed again. Eric told Pam that she could watch TV until we were ready to put her to bed—another thing out of the ordinary. And then he took my hand and led me to the library.

The library. The room that held so many memories for me. For us.

And we sat down at the table, him next to me, his fingers still holding mine. And he sighed quietly. Almost nervously. He turned in his chair so that it was easier for him to look at me. Those enigmatic blue eyes like X-rays, seeing straight through me to my core.

"I love you." He said it like they were the most important words he had ever or would ever say. "I love you. And I want people to introduce us like we're one unit—'This is EricandSookie.' I want to be bound to you. I want to know your body in every way, night after night, in our bed. I want you by my side. I want to share everything I have with you. I will honor you. Cherish you. Love you."

He took a deep breath, running his fingers through his damp hair. "Sookie Stackhouse, I want you to be my wife."

And I couldn't breathe.

"That is what I want," he said firmly. "What do you want?"

I stuttered and stumbled and all around freaked out.

Had he just proposed?

Was that what this was?

Was Eric…Did he really…He wanted to marry me?

We'd talked about it. A lot. And he'd always talked about it as an inevitability. But I kept getting the impression that he wanted it sooner rather than later. I just hadn't guessed that he meant this soon.

"Um. I…" I said, though I realized that the words were throwaways, that they didn't convey anything that I was trying to say.

He removed his hand and placed both of his on my face. And he held my gaze. "Sookie, what do you want?"

"That," I managed to squeak out. "What you said."

I was proud that I had managed that. But Eric shook his head. "I need the words. I need to hear you say it."

I gulped and took a big breath and then gulped. "I want to…I want you to be my husband. I want to be your wife. I want to marry you. And love you every single day for the rest of my life." God, that's what I wanted. Maybe it was too soon. And maybe we were both crazy. But I loved him. I couldn't even picture a future that wasn't intertwined with his.

And I was nearly blinded from the glare of Eric's incandescent smile. He looked happier than I'd ever seen him. His hands moved from my face to his hair. And then one to his pocket. And I knew what was coming.

He held the little box in his hand.

"I'd love it if you didn't ask how much it cost. But if you do, just remember that it's already paid for, and I can't take it back." His smile never left his face.

Not when he opened the box.

Not when he slipped the princess cut ring onto my finger.

Not when I gaped and kept my mouth shut about money.

And not when I kissed him. The smile never left my fiancé's face. My fiancé. And I was curious if it would ever fade or if it would remain a permanent fixture. Personally, I liked it. I loved it.

I loved him. So fucking much.

Oh my stars. I had to call Gran. And Ames. And Tara. Geez Louise. I was getting married. I was going to have a wedding. I needed to talk to Pam and see how she felt about this. And Alexei. That poor boy got overlooked all the time. Oh my god, Jason. I needed to tell Jason too.

Tears started streaming down my face at the same time that I laughing fit started. I was engaged to Eric. How in the world had I gotten so lucky?

"I love you, Mr. Northman." I said between giggles.

"I love you too, future Mrs. Northman." And that shut me up.

Mrs. Northman.

That would be me.

I mean, assuming I took his last name, which I had been planning on doing. Mrs. Northman. Mrs. Eric Northman. Oh geez. I didn't know why all this stuff was blindsiding me. This was typically the way engagements and marriages worked.

"You okay?" he asked after I was quiet for a almost a full minute.

"Yeah. Excited. Nervous." I sighed. "Happy. So very happy."

His eyes crinkled as he smiled even brighter. And he nodded. "I'm happy too."

"Should we go tell Pam?" I asked. He held out his hand for me, and we walked into the living room together.

Pam and Lex were both there. Alexei looked like he had fallen onto the couch and had sunk deep into the cushions. He looked tired, like maybe he was working too many hours.

"Good. You're both here. We have something to tell you."

Lex sat up quickly, awakening from his cathartic state. "Sookie's pregnant?"

"No, I'm not pregnant," I exclaimed.

"Sorry. You looked like you'd put on a little weight. I just thought," Lex replied. What? I looked down at my stomach. I'd only gained a pound or two. Did I really look bigger?

"Be more respectful," Eric said. "You're speaking of my future wife."

There was but a brief moment of silence and then, "Damn it, Eric." Alexei huffed and reached for his pocket at the same time that Pam held out her hand.

"Pay up." They'd really taken bets on when we'd get engaged. Awesome.

Alexei pulled a twenty dollar bill from his wallet and handed it to Pam. "Why couldn't you have waited another week?"

"You really shouldn't bet against me."

"How did you do it?" Lex asked. "I know you did something."

"I didn't do a thing." Pam gave that wicked smirk. "But I did have a conversation with Uncle Barry last week. I knew he'd manage to talk some sense into Eric."

"You're such a meddler."

"Don't be jealous I beat you, Lex. It's unbecoming."

He groaned. "You are the worst seven-year-old ever."

"Or the best," she replied.

"I'm going with worst."

She smiled. "Agree to disagree then."

Eric cleared his throat. And they fell silent. "The point is, we're getting married. Anything either of you want to say about that?"

Pam raised her hand. "Can I be flower girl?"

Eric looked at me. "Um. Sure."

She raised her hand again. "I want veto power on my dress."

"That's fine," I replied.

"No further questions. Oh, wait. When is the wedding date?"

"Pam, we got engaged like ten minutes ago. We haven't chosen a date yet," Eric replied.

"You really should get on that," she said. "Wedding venues fill up years in advance."

"We'll get right on it," he replied. "Come on, bed time." Eric finally let go of me to cross the room and pick her up from his chair. As they were walking by, she held out her arms, so I scooted closer to hug her.

"I love you, Sookie. Good night."

"I love you too, sweetie. I'll see you in the morning."

"I'm happy you're marrying Eric."

"Me too."

* * *

A/N: Chapter title comes from the song "You and Me" by Lifehouse.


	35. Pancakes and Panic

A/N: Hello friends. It's been a while. I'm sorry about that. School and sickness have been kicking my ass lately.

As a result, it's a little shorter than usual. But the wait for the next one shouldn't be nearly as long. Thanks for all the love and to everyone who checked up on me or offered to make me soup. You're all angels.

Disclaimer: Not mine.

* * *

I opened my eyes and it was the first thing I saw—my ring. My engagement ring. Because I was engaged. To Eric. Geez Louise. Any sane person would be running crazy; we hadn't even known each other half a year, and I already had his ring on my finger. I just kept thinking back to what Evie said when we visited Lake Charles about just knowing that it was right when everyone else thought you were nuts.

I stared at the ring and thought about how so much of this, of us, had happened by chance. Me going to Glasir on the same night that Alexei bailed out on watching Pam. Me coming out of the restroom at the exact time Pam started screaming. Seeing her at the bookstore and having a reason to come back and visit Eric. Or even something as simple as Amelia and Tray not being fuck buddies and him not working as a bouncer at Glasir.

Where would my life be without him?

I tried to imagine it, but my brain revolted against that idea and started showing me visions of Christmas mornings and my belly growing and Eric rocking our baby to sleep. I imagined Pam as a teenager—God help us all—and Alexei graduating from college. I imagined how Eric would look in his forties. His fifties. I imagined seeing the look that he had given me when he proposed on our wedding day when I walked down the aisle, and on our anniversary. Him bringing home flowers when he knew I had a bad day. Or me bringing him soup when he was sick in bed.

Our whole future together.

It didn't scare me. I was excited. I couldn't wait for it all.

I stared at the ring. The ring I hadn't taken off before bed. The ring that felt heavy, yet familiar on my finger. The ring that meant so much and yet so little without its mate.

I turned over and stared at him.

Blonde hair sticking to his forehead. The summer heat still clung to the Louisiana air, and though we kept the house cool, it had still managed to get warm enough that Eric had a thin layer of sweat across his forehead. I reached out and brushed his hair back, momentarily distracted by the glint of the sun off the diamond.

He'd chosen a ring that I always imagined a Disney princess wearing when she married her prince charming. It was beautiful. Perhaps a little…more than I would have chosen for myself. But that was Eric. He always delivered in ample, in excess. He'd never leave me lacking if he had the power to provide more than enough.

He was too good.

Almost unreal.

I don't know what I'd ever done to deserve him, and I didn't care. I wasn't going to mess things up with him. Eric and Pam and Alexei were the best family I could have ever hoped to be a part of.

I leaned forward and kissed his cheek. And he almost immediately stirred, his arm extending to pull me flush against him.

"Good morning, dear one." His sleep-laden voice clung to his throat, making it sound like a growl rather than a greeting. But it was a sexy growl.

"Morning, Mr. Northman." His eyes darted to the ring and then back to me. And in one fluid motion, he had pulled me so that I was on top of him. I pushed on his chest and spread my legs, so that I was straddling his thighs.

His firm hands surrounded my hips and moved me closer. "When are we calling Gran?"

"I was shooting for this afternoon after school. You know she's going to want to talk to you."

"Gran loves me." I smiled. He had no idea how much Gran loved him. She asked more about him when we talked on the phone than she did about me.

"She does. I figure she'll be just as excited about this," I pointed the engagement ring in his direction, "as Pam was."

Eric pushed himself up so that he was seated, his chest against mine. He kissed my top lip once and then my bottom lip before moving one of his hands to the back of my neck and leaning in. His lips were gentle against mine, unhurried. Neither of us pushed for anything deeper or more intense. It was just his lips and mine. It was just kissing—if it was possible to explain what Eric was doing with his lips as "just" anything—in its purest form.

And then he leaned back. "I wondered if it would be different, if it would feel different. If being engaged," he paused at that word and smiled wide, "would change anything."

"What do you mean?"

"I didn't know if it would feel more…something to kiss you. To make love to you."

"Does it?"

He shook his head slightly. "No. Not really. It's the same feeling I always get, except every once in a while I remember that you'll take my name soon. Wait, are you going to? We haven't talked about that. I shouldn't have presumed that you would—"

I covered his mouth with my hand.

"Yes. I plan on becoming a Northman." I glanced down at the ring again, realizing that I probably looked like a gold digger because of my obsession with it. It was just new. And significant. And it meant a lot. It was more than a platinum band and a diamond. It was a promise.

One I'd never made to anyone. One I'd never felt right making before Eric had asked. I'd agreed to marry him. To be his wife. Geez Louise. I was going to be a wife.

"I love you, Eric Northman." The words didn't seem like enough to express how I really felt about him, but they were all I had.

"I love you too, Sookie Stackhouse." He leaned in to kiss me again.

But a knock on the door interrupted him.

"What?" he asked, raising his voice slightly so he could be heard.

"Alexei and I made you breakfast," Pam replied from the other side. "Well, it was mostly Alexei, but I helped."

"Give us a minute."

"Put on some clothes," Alexei said. "The pancakes are getting cold."

Eric leaned over to check the time on his phone and stiffened. "Shit. We're running late." And then he showed me the time. Thirty minutes until we were supposed to leave.

Had we forgotten to set the alarm last night?

I rushed to the bathroom. No time for a shower. I'd have to pull my hair up for the day. I made quick work of a messy bun and just a little bit of makeup. And brushing my teeth. Then I dashed back into the bedroom, while a fully clothed Eric rushed past me to the bathroom, stopping for a quick kiss. I found the pale pink dress that contrasted nicely when my tanned skin and slipped it and my heels on.

Eric came out of the bathroom and zipped it up for me.

We ate the pancake feast that Lex and Pam had created for us. Luckily, both were already dressed for the day and didn't need much motivation, so we left the house only slightly later than usual.

School was crazy.

Two teachers had requested to bring their classes in for a library introduction session. And I'd accidently told them to come in at the same time. I had fifty-something hyperactive third graders talking over me and knocking books off the shelf, while their teachers stood at the front desk gossiping. I managed the best I could, but I was thrilled when they were gone.

During lunch, I contemplated calling Amelia and telling her, but I knew that would be a long conversation, and I just didn't have the time to discuss venues and silk and where to register.

The afternoon was a little less hectic. Mrs. Jackson sent in small groups from her class to pick out their first book, and I got to observe Pam interacting with her classmates. She reminded me of a mini-Blair Waldorf with her headband and purple dress. A girl flanked her on either side—clearly, she was the dominant personality of the group. She scrutinized the other girls' book selections and gave recommendations.

She led them to the front desk with authority and smiled at me. "Hi, Sookie."

"Hi, Pam. What book did you get?"

"_Because of Winn Dixie_. Have you read it before? Is it good?"

I nodded. "Yeah. I think you'll enjoy it."

"Hey, Sookie, can Ginger and Yvetta stay the night?" And she put on her best pleading face.

"You'll have to talk to your father about that." It was the most diplomatic answer I could think of. I loved that Pam had friends—minions, whatever—but I really wanted to spend the evening calling Gran and Ames and Evie and Pop-pop. Not so much in entertaining a bunch of eight and nine-year-old girls. But if Eric wanted to help shoulder that so I could make the calls, I was fine with it.

"Can you call him right now?" she begged.

"I can call him after school." Pam groaned.

"Fine." I checked out their books and they went on their way, Pam stalking away a little louder than necessary.

The second the final bell rang, I kept my promise and dialed up Eric. Lucky for me, he wasn't in the mood for a slumber party either, but told Pam that she could have it next week. Which gave us all a little time to mentally prepare. Pam wasn't thrilled, but she wasn't throwing a hissy fit either so I counted it as a victory.

I was in the kitchen looking through the cabinets for something to make for dinner, when I heard Eric come through the front door. His cell phone rang almost instantly.

"What? When?" He sounded panicky, so I went into the living room. He was staring at the front door, almost as if he expected someone to try and bust through it at any second and kill us all. "You're sure?"

A few seconds of silence, while Eric's entire body remained tense in anticipation of a battle.

"Yeah. Thank you for telling me. Next time. Call me and the police. I'll bring the paperwork to you that shows she can't." He straightened his posture, relaxing slightly. And then he glanced at me. "One second."

"What's going on?"

"I'll tell you in a minute," he said. "Would Lorena, Bill's…whatever, would she know where you work or live?"

Lorena? "Um. She probably knows where I work. Bill knew where I worked, so it's possible she knew. Why? Is this about Lorena?"

"No. But I just thought of her." And then he turned his attention back to whoever was on the phone. "That's all for now. Thank you. Again."

"What's going on?" I asked.

"It's Soph. I think she followed me from Glasir. She tried to get through the front gate. She knows where we live."

* * *

A/N: A bit cliffhanger-ish. But not really. At least I don't think so. You all might disagree with that.


	36. The Storm Before the Storm

A/N: Long time no see, fanfic friends. That's entirely my fault. Procrastinating on school work sadly didn't equate to more writing. Thank you all for your patience as well as your encouragement to write through the block.

Disclaimer: Not mine. Not mine.

* * *

I didn't have much time to dwell on what that meant for us—Sophie Anne knew where we lived—because my phone rang. Gran. I answered it quickly and blurted out, "Eric and I are getting married" before I had could stop myself. I was excited. I thought she would be too.

And then there was a long—I mean epically long, like years could have passed, continents could have drifted, aliens could have landed long—pause, and then she asked, "Are you pregnant?"

"No," I replied, feeling uneasy. Gran was the one who was supposed to be so happy for me. She loved Eric and Alexei and Pam, and she encouraged my relationship with him from the beginning. What was this? Why did she sound less than thrilled?

"Jason and Amy are getting married. She's pregnant."

Geez Louise. When did that happen? When was the last time I saw them? The barbecue? Had they known then? I couldn't remember seeing either of them drink.

She was pregnant.

"When's the wedding?" Shit.

I knew I was being selfish, but I was kind of upset. I couldn't announce my wedding because then Amy and Jason would feel like I was trying to overshadow theirs.

I always knew Jason would get one of his girlfriends pregnant. At least one. Frankly, I was surprised that there weren't more little Stackhouses running about. Okay, maybe that was a little bitchy.

"October. They're going to have it at the Presbyterian church, even though neither of them is Presbyterian. And they want the reception to be at the house. Which means I'm going to need your help preparing food for this thing. You know Jason, he's invited the entire town over."

And I was definitely pouting. I threw myself down on the couch and sighed loudly. Jase was getting married first. And he was having Gran's first great-grandkid. Because even though she loved Lex and Pam, I don't think she counted them as hers.

I crossed my arms over my chest. "Sure, Gran. I'd be happy to." Would not. I hated the idea.

Geez, Sookie, what are you seven? Even Pam doesn't act like this.

It was quiet again and I was sure Gran knew that I was being a brat, throwing a temper tantrum.

"When did you and Eric get engaged?"

I sighed. "Last night. It was perfect," I said quietly, and looked up at him. He was standing still, facing the door. Waiting. Protecting.

"Have you set a date yet?" she asked.

"I was thinking about Christmas. Or maybe next summer, if that's too soon. Eric and I haven't really had a chance to talk about it."

"Well, sweetie, just let me know when you do. I'm happy for you. Eric is a good man."

"Thank you, Gran. We're all really happy," I said, not really feeling it. "Tell Jason…" And then I stopped.

"Tell Jason what?"

"Never mind. I'll call him and Amy and congratulate them myself." I could stop pouting about being overshadowed long enough to do that. I was sure that this pregnancy wasn't planned. I didn't even know if Amy wanted to marry Jase. She seemed nice and smart and like she had goals. She seemed bigger than Bon Temps.

Then again, I didn't really know her.

Maybe this is exactly the life Amy wanted. Just because it wasn't for me, didn't mean that it wasn't for her.

I stayed sprawled out on the couch for a long time after I hung up. Eric finally slackened and joined me, sitting down and placing my head on his thighs. I told him about Jason. And I tried to keep the jealousy out of my voice.

Today was supposed to be _my_ day for telling everyone the good news. I was getting married to the man that I loved.

But Eric knew—of course, he did—and stroked my head and let me whine. He put up with it until even I was sick of my voice and finally managed to shut myself up. Eric leaned his large torso over and barely grazed my lips with his.

"We should call Jason and Amy and congratulate them. On their engagement. And on their baby." He was right.

"Should we tell them about us?" I asked.

"If you don't, I will. You deserve to be happy too." I nodded and sat up and curled into Eric's side, the warmth of his body and the rhythm of his breathing helping to keep me calm. When I hesitated in pressing the call button, Eric sighed. "Do you want me to do it?"

"No, no. I got it." I pressed the little green button quickly so that I couldn't second guess myself. And put on speakerphone. And I listened as ring after ring spun through the receiver.

Then, finally, an uneasy breath and a half greeting answered. "What?" Amy sounded stressed . I could understand why.

"Hi. It's Sookie. And Eric."

Amy let out another one of those uneasy breaths. "I assume that Adele called."

"Yeah." I looked at Eric, and he looked back, soft and strong. My favorite contradiction. "We just called to congratulate you guys. And to say that if you ever need anything, we're here."

"Thanks," she said quickly. "Do you want to talk to Jason?" And before I could reply I heard my brother's gruff voice.

"Who is this?"

"Your sister."

"And her fiancé," Eric said.

"No shit?" Jason responded, his voice less flat than before. "Well, congrats. Gran told you about us?"

"She did," Eric said, taking over talking for me. He loved Jase, and my brother loved him too. "Congrats on your engagement. And the baby. How far along is she?"

"Ten weeks. " And then his voice became a hush. "She's moodier than a three-legged coyote. She threw a bowl of cereal at me this morning." I was sure that it wasn't unprovoked.

"Is there anything we can do to help?" I asked.

"One sec." Jase and Amy argued back and forth, muffled, I presumed, because Jason's hand was covering the phone. After nearly a minute of this, during which I heard Amy yell, "I'm not staying here" at least three times, Jason finally spoke to us again. "Yeah, um, we were thinking of getting out of Bon Temps before the baby got here. Amy doesn't…we don't want the baby to grow up here. Do either of you know a good real estate person in Shreveport?"

I deflected this one to Eric. Surely he had one on speed dial or something.

"What kind of place are you looking for?"

Jason sighed loudly. "I don't know. You'd have to ask the crazy pregnant lady."

"Jason Stackhouse," I exclaimed. "You be nicer to her. It's your fault too that she's pregnant. She can't help it if she's a little moody; she's got a person growing inside her. Be nice."

"That's no fair. Women always stick together."

"Only when men are being assholes," I replied.

And Eric didn't say a word.

Jason pouted for a few more seconds before speaking again. "I'll ask Amy what she's looking for and get back to you. Do you really think we'll be able to find a place we can afford that quickly?"

"I know some people who should be able to help. And, if all else fails, I have a house I could rent to you. It's not very big, but it would be a temporary fix until we could get you somewhere nicer," Eric replied.

"Shit, man. Thanks. That sounds great. I'll talk to her and get back to you."

"No problem."

"And Jase," I said, "tell Amy to let me know how I can help with the wedding."

The next month was a blur of colors and squeals and food and yelling. I told Amelia about our engagement and she wanted to start planning right away, but we'd already decided to hold off until after Jason and Amy got married off. I don't think I could take the stress of preparing two weddings.

I didn't want to ignore my own wedding, but it had to be done.

Amy was a mess most of the time. She broke down in tears over flower arrangements and picking out a dress and looking at houses in Shreveport. She wasn't handling any of it very well, so it fell to me, who was apparently the maid-of-honor. That happened mid-September after her other bridesmaids quit on her. I was bumped up from caterer.

I put on my best fake smile and pretend like it was a joy to help my future sister-in-law plan a wedding that she was sure to regret instead of planning my wedding to the man I was sure I wanted to share my life with. On top of all my other duties, I was still in charge of the food for the reception.

Eric did his best to try and keep me sane, but I could tell it was wearing on him too, especially after he and Barry found them a place just a few miles from us. Jason was over all the time on our couch, trying to escape Amy's mood swings. It was fine the first few times, but it had become a regular occurrence. And it was driving me up the wall.

I'd kicked him out more than once.

And on top of the circus of a wedding that I was trying to ringmaster, Sophie Anne was still lurking in the shadows. We hadn't heard a single word from her since she followed Eric to the front gate, but that didn't mean a thing. I was sure she was just biding her time.

Waiting.

Which meant that I should have been vigilant, watching for signs that something wasn't right, that she was coming. But my brain couldn't focus on anything.

I felt tired all the time.

And then I was late.

I didn't even realize it until I was supposed to be on my third day. And there was just nothing. I sat in my office for most of that day, ignoring the screaming hordes of children that ransacked the library.

Pam startled me when she walked in. "What's wrong with you? You look like someone burned the last copy of _Breakfast at Tiffany's_."

"Why aren't you in class?"

She cocked her head to the side and stared, trying to read my mind. "School let out half an hour ago. I've been waiting on you to come out of you trance and take me home." The clock on the computer confirmed her story. "What's wrong with you?"

"Nothing."

I wasn't ready to admit to her—or myself, for that matter—that it was even a possibility that I might be pregnant. Pam was many things, but good at keeping secrets was not one of them. And I didn't want Eric to know until I knew for sure.

And I wasn't ready to know for sure.

For the next week, I woke up every morning in anticipation. Hoping. Only to have that hope squashed like a pea that fell on the kitchen floor.

Eric knew something was wrong—of course, he knew—but he never pressured me to tell him. He just walked around with puppy dog eyes and was super sweet to me. He went across town to my favorite bakery to get me a cupcake. And he sent me flowers at work. And I felt like a bitch for not telling him. But I didn't know anything. I'd kept it that way purposely.

I told myself I wasn't pregnant a million times. It was my mantra. And if the possibility ever crept its way into my brain, I quickly tossed it back out. I couldn't be pregnant. I wasn't pregnant. I didn't have the time or energy or emotional stability to be pregnant.

I just wanted to get through Jason's fucking wedding so that I could plan my own.

When I got home from school on Thursday, two days before Jason and Amy's wedding, Eric stopped me at the front door. He told Pam to go inside and shut the door. And he stared at me. Not harsh or angry. Sad.

And that was even worse.

"Please tell me what's going on with you. If it's just maid-of-honor wedding stress, that's fine. I just…something's off. And I can't figure out what it is, and it's driving me crazy. I want to help you any way I can, but you've closed yourself off from me. Please, Sookie, please."

It was a mistake to look into his eyes.

Every tear that I had managed to keep in rushed forward out my eyes and down my face. It wasn't attractive in the slightest. Eric stepped closer, wrapped his arms around me, and pulled me to his chest. My tears and snot probably ruined his black t-shirt.

Why hadn't I told him again?

I cried and cried. Until my throat was sore and my eyes were puffy. And then I said what I hadn't said to anyone, "I'm late."

His entire body tensed. And there was way more silence than I wanted. "Late late?"

"Yeah."

"How late?" He'd gone into bossy mode. Scared. And that made me feel even worse.

A few stray tears fell. "Two weeks."

"Two weeks?" One arm tightened around me, while the other brushed repeatedly through his hair. "Two fucking weeks? How could you not tell me? Are you…"

He sighed and pulled away from me altogether. I hated that. It felt wrong. We always faced these things together. Touching. Holding hands. Something.

"Are you pregnant?"

"I don't know." More fucking tears.

Eric cupped my face in his hands and kissed my forehead. Then he reached down and pulled my keys from my purse. "I'm going to the pharmacy to get a test. You stay here with Pam." He started to walk away, but he turned back around and half-smiled. "Either way…I love you. We just…we need to know."

"Yeah." I nodded.

"I wish you would have told me. You've been stressed, and I've been worried. And none of this anxiety needed to happen."

"Are you mad?"

He sighed. "Yeah. I'm mad you didn't tell me. Even if you thought it was a possibility. And you just didn't."

"I'm sorry."

He bobbed his head a few times and turned around. I watched him pull out of the driveway and disappear down the road.

* * *

A/N: Yeah...Thoughts?


	37. But I Try But I Try But I

A/N: Holy crap another update. I was going to wait until tomorrow to post this chapter, but scribeninja wanted it tonight, and I figured that most of you would agree with her on that.

Disclaimer: Not mine. Not mine.

* * *

He handed over the plastic shopping bag without looking at me. "Go."

"Now?"

Eric didn't speak, only nodded his head once. He was pissed. This wasn't how this was all supposed to happen. More tears fell as I walked from the couch to the bathroom. Pam tried to ask what was wrong, but Eric ordered her back to her bedroom. I felt just as scolded.

And maybe I deserved my scolding.

How could I have kept this from him? I should have known he wouldn't like it. I was just freaking out, and I just wanted to get through Jase's wedding. Then I was going to do the test. And if it was nothing, then I wasn't going to even mention it.

But Eric wasn't a regular guy. He wasn't Bill, who freaked over my pregnancy scare. Or Quinn who threw me his credit card and told me to take care of it. He was Eric. He would have been supportive either way. Why couldn't I have realized that two weeks ago?

Eric sat on the bathroom counter while I peed. And then we sat the test by the sink and stared. At it. At each other. At the time.

The minutes crept slowly forward like a toddler in a snowsuit.

"I'm sorry," I said again.

"I know," he replied. Not exactly the "I love you, Sookie. It'll all be okay" that I wanted to hear. Eric ran his fingers through his hair and looked at the time again. "I know. But this isn't a little secret, Sookie. This is whether or not we have a child together. And if you can keep something that big from me…" He trailed off, shaking his head. Like he was disgusted.

With me.

Fuck.

Fuckity fuck fuck.

"It's time," he said quietly. "Go ahead."

I walked to the sink and picked up the little stick.

Not pregnant.

I wasn't sure what I was supposed to feel. Relief? Sadness? Because I didn't feel anything when I stared at it, at those two words. I felt empty. Drained. A little like I was going to throw up all over the heated tile.

"What does it say?" I handed it to Eric. "Oh." I couldn't tell a thing from his voice how he felt about this either. And I took his silence to mean that he didn't feel like sharing his feelings.

"I'm tired," I said, feeling claustrophobic in that little room with him and those words: not pregnant. "I'm going to take a nap and start working on wedding food."

"Okay," he said, looking around like he was lost, confused. "I'm…I'll make dinner."

"Wake me when it's ready?" Eric still wouldn't make eye contact.

"Yeah. Sure. Yeah." I reached for the door knob and stumbled into the bedroom. "Um. I…Have a nice nap."

"Thanks." I sat on the bed to take off my heels, and as he passed Eric placed his hand lightly on the top of my head. It wasn't much. But it was enough.

I crawled into bed and cried myself to sleep.

"Sookie." His voice pulled me from the bleakness of my nap. I opened my crusty eyes and he was staring back at me, a sad smile decorating his face. "Do you want your food in here? Or at the table?"

"The table. " He nodded, while I pulled the covers back and climbed out of bed still in my slacks and sweater. A thin layer of sweat adhered my clothes to me like superglued fingers. I felt gross. But I hoped food would help.

In the kitchen, I was greeted by baked macaroni and cheese. Comfort food. Just what I needed. I piled spoonfuls onto my plate and sat in my usual spot at the table. Pam was already there eating. She studied my appearance the way only Pam could. And she lifted an eyebrow in curiosity.

But she stayed quiet.

Eric slid into his seat next to mine and ate silently. The food tasted good—I knew that with my brain—but my body wasn't getting that message. I felt just as cut off from him as before. I hated this feeling, like I had messed everything up and I'd never get a chance to fix it. Like he wouldn't listen even if I got down on my knees and begged and pleaded for forgiveness.

I messed up. Badly.

I felt all alone.

Then he reached under the table and took my hand. My head must have nearly jerked clean off as I turned to look at him. He didn't make eye contact. But I'd take physical contact.

We held hands while I finished up my dinner, and Eric talked to Pam about school. Pam's minions were apparently starting to protest, and she was trying to crush the rebellion before it started. Ginger kept whining. But I was sure Pam could get Yvetta back in line if for no other reason that she was in love with Eric. We'd discovered that little tidbit when Pam had her slumber party.

I squeezed his hand once and Eric turned to look at me. "I'm going to wash the dishes and start working on the cake."

"I can do the dishes," he replied, reaching for my plate.

"No, you made dinner. I got it."

But he wouldn't relent. "You have a lot of cooking today and tomorrow for the wedding. The least I can do to help you is to wash everything." My first thought was to argue. My heart told that stupid thought to shut its pie hole. The last thing I needed was to get him mad at me again. Or madder. I was sure he was still angry, but at least we were being civil.

"Sure. I'd love the help." Eric dropped my hand—which made my stomach drop—and picked up our plates. He washed the dishes and put the leftovers in the fridge for when Lex got home for his shift, while I got my ingredients ready for the cake. Gran was doing the groom's cake, but I was responsible for the three layered cake of Amy's dreams.

Eric left me alone to mix up more batter than I ever wanted to see, and I hoped that Alexei wouldn't come home until after it was all in the oven. But he did. Lex was only in the kitchen long enough to catch the smell before he rushed from the room.

I got the leftover mac and cheese from the fridge and put it on a plate and in the microwave for him. And then went back to getting the batter into the proper pan. Wedding cakes weren't my forte. Ask me for cobbler or cookies or even pie.

But the process—the ingredients, the pouring, the stirring—helped to calm my nerves and keep my mind off the shit storm I'd created out of my life. I finally got everything in the oven and set the timer. Then, I joined Lex at the table.

"Sorry about that," I said. "I should have started sooner."

Lex didn't look up from his plate. "Don't worry about it. I'm fine." He shoveled a few more bites in his mouth and then asked, "What's up with Eric?"

"What do you mean?" Where was he? What did he say?

He must have read the underlying panic beneath my cool tone, because he finally lifted his head to stare at me. "He's on the porch. Sitting by himself. Staring out into space." He paused. "Both of you look off. What happened?"

How much to tell him…

"We're kind of in the middle of an argument."

Lex shook his head furiously. "No. That's not it. He doesn't have his fighting face on. He looks…sad. It's weird. I don't like it."

"Me either."

Lex took more bites and started talking even though his mouth was half-full. "So what's really going on with you guys?"

"I thought that I might be pregnant, and I kept it from him." I was expecting relief when I said it aloud; it only made me feel worse.

"That was dumb."

"No duh, Sherlock," I replied. I was so stupid. This was my fault, my ginormous mess. I kept making messes.

"So…are you?" I shook my head and he huffed. "I was kind of hoping you were. Pam's exiting her cute little kid stage and becoming a brat. We could use a new one."

"Very funny, Lex."

"I'm being serious," he replied, smiling wide. "I'm just saying…I wouldn't object to being an uncle-brother."

I snorted. "Please don't say that. It makes us sound like a religious cult. Or in-breeders." Lex threw back his head and laughed.

"I will definitely be teaching your future offspring to call me 'uncle-brother.'"

I sat talking with Lex until the timer went off. I put the cakes on cooling racks. There was so much more that I needed to do before the wedding, but I felt exhausted. All the patience and willingness, what little bit I had possessed, was gone. I wanted Saturday to be over. I couldn't deal with anymore Jason/Amy drama.

I had my own to deal with.

My drama took the form of my fiancé sitting outside on the porch probably because he couldn't stand to be in the same room as me, let alone the same house. He had every right to be mad. I had completely fucked this one up. I hadn't told him.

And now I knew for sure that I wasn't pregnant.

I realized that, despite the horrible timing, maybe I had kind of, a little bit, almost wanted to be pregnant with our baby. It was too soon. I still wanted time with him. I knew that. But I was still a little sad.

And I was relieved. Neither us had the focus or strength to take on a baby right now. Plus, call me old fashioned, but I didn't really want to have a baby until after Eric and I were married and comfortable with those roles and responsibilities before we took on new ones.

I started hand-washing all of my many mixing bowls and whisks and spatulas at the sink, hoping that it would help my brain if I centered on a menial task. Mind-numbing. Like the pain of eating ice cream too quickly, and how it's impossible to think of anything else until the klaxon in the brain finally quiets.

Eric came up behind me and put his hand on my shoulder. My quest to block myself out must have worked, because I hadn't heard him come in. Or walk through the house. I jumped right out of my skin.

"Sorry," he mumbled, not sounding like himself. "Pam wants you to tuck her in."

"Oh. Um, okay. Yeah." I shut off the water and reached for a dish towel to dry my hands. Then, I started to walk out of the kitchen, but the sound of running water forced me to turn around. Eric was washing my dishes. "You don't have to do that. It's my mess. I'll clean it up."

"Don't you understand yet?" He didn't look up from his task.

What?

"Understand what?"

"It's not just your mess or my mess anymore. It's our mess. And we both need to clean it up." I was fairly confident that he wasn't talking about dishes anymore. "Will you meet me in the library after you're done tucking her in?"

I took in a breath, held it inside until it stung my lungs, and then let it out as quietly as I could. "Yeah."

Pam was already in bed with the covers pulled up around her when I made it to her room. She patted the bed beside her, an invitation to join her. Much less ominous than the last invitation I had gotten.

"Are you and Eric getting a divorce?" She asked before I even had a chance to get comfortable.

"Sweetie, we're not even married yet."

"You know what I mean."

"I do. But, to the best of my knowledge, Eric and I aren't breaking up. We're just fighting."

Pam looked at me in disbelief. "Ginger told me that her parents used to fight all the time; that's why they got a divorce. And now she has two Christmases and two birthday parties and two rooms in two houses. I don't want that to happen to me."

Oh geez. I hadn't even considered how Pam might interpret our argument. "That's not going to happen. Eric and I both love you. And we love each other. We're just having a fight." Hopefully Eric would forgive me eventually. "Do you want me to read you a story?"

"Lex said that you thought that you might have a baby." I really should have known by now that, regardless of their age difference, Pam was still Lex's closest confidant. "But you're not. Is that what you guys are fighting about? Because Eric wants a baby?"

"No," I said, wiggling around on the bed, feeling uncomfortable. "I mean, I don't know if Eric wants a baby or not, but that's not what we're fighting about. Do you want me to read you a story?" I tried to deflect for a second time. And again she ignored me.

"Well, what are you guys fighting about? It's probably stupid. You two always fight about stupid stuff."

"Pam—"

She cut me off. "No. It's true. Like just last week when we were at the grocery store and you were arguing over whether or not to get orange juice with pulp in it. You argued for fifteen minutes. It was most the most ridiculous thing I've ever seen. Is it another one of those fights?"

"No," I replied. "It's not. It's a lot more complicated than beverage selection."

"Maybe I can help." Her eyes were wide , and she looked so sincere.

"Sorry, sweetie, but this is one we have to work through on our own. Regardless of what happens, we both love you. And we'll both always be there for you." I leaned over to kiss her forehead. "Time for bed. You have school tomorrow."

"I love you, Sookie."

"I love you too, Pam. Good night."

I went back to our room and changed into pajamas to delay going to the library. I washed my face and combed my hair and brushed my teeth. And then I finally decided to stop being a wimp and face him. Ignoring him is what had gotten me into trouble in the first place.

The library door felt heavy, resistant, as I pushed on it. He was seated at the table. Solemn. Quiet. But in complete control. I sat in the seat beside him, hoping that that was the right move.

He took my hand again, and I let out a long breath. I took this as a good we both started to talk at the same time. And then stopped, waited, and started again. He lightly squeezed my hand.

"Can I talk first?" I nodded. He deserved that. "I know that you're going to apologize again and again, but we need to…Sookie, I don't understand how you could keep this from me. I just…I don't. We're getting married; we're sharing our lives with each other. I thought you trusted me more than that. Why didn't you tell me that you were late?"

"I'm—" He interrupted me.

"No more apologies." Shit.

"I didn't want to worry you before I knew definitely whether or not I was. And with all the planning and everything for Jason's wedding, I didn't feel like I was ready to take that on as well, so I ignored it. I tried to pretend everything was fine."

"I want you to worry me," he replied.

"Huh?" I didn't understand.

"You said that you didn't want to worry you before you knew for certain, but I want you to worry me. I want you to confide in me. I'm not Tara or Amelia or your Gran. I'm going to be your husband. Your burdens are my burdens. And especially something as big as our child, yes, I want to know." He brushed his fingers through his already messy hair. He was going to worry himself bald. "I need you to talk to me about what's going on with you. I've been worried."

I nodded. "I can do that. I will do that. I promise."

"Good." Eric let out a big sigh and stood up. He started walking, and I had to jump to my feet to keep up with him.

"Where are we going?"

He opened up our bedroom door. "I want to cuddle." I was torn between laughing at how funny it was to hear someone of Eric's size and build saying he wanted to cuddle, and crying because that sounded perfect. I climbed into bed, pulling the covers around me, while he took off his shirt and pants. After tossing them in the hamper, he joined me.

He wrapped those anchor arms around me and pulled me close, so that my head was resting on his chest. With each breath, he relaxed a little more. And so did I.

"I love you, Eric Northman," I said a few minutes later, as my eyes started closing of their own volition no matter how many times I fought to keep them open. "I'm sorry."

"I forgive you," he replied. And then he sighed in contentment. "I love you, Sookie Stackhouse."

* * *

A/N: Chapter title comes from "Where Love Went Wrong" by Augustana


	38. Through the Fire, Through the Rain

A/N: Holy Hannah, it's been a long time guys. Sorry about that.

There is a reference to Buffy, Angel, and Spike. If you don't know, you can just disregard that part. It's at the end; it won't affect the rest of the story. I blame it on watching half Buffy on Netflix.

Disclaimer: CH owns SVM. And the great god Joss Whedon owns Buffy.

* * *

I'd just woken up. I literally hadn't even opened my eyes, but Eric always knew when I was awake. It was a gift of his. I had just woken up when I heard him say, "I'm sorry about yesterday."

I forced my eyelids to open despite my body's protest to go back to sleep, and I looked at him, sitting up in bed against the headboard, his nerdy glasses on, and a closed paperback in his hand. I wondered how long he'd been awake. And then I wondered if he'd even slept.

"What are you sorry about?"

"Sophie-Anne waited a month and a half to tell me she was late. She finally told me after we hadn't seen each other for a few weeks. We were back at my place and it was right as I was about to…" Ugh. I didn't like the mental image of him sleeping with her. Or anyone. "She told me she hadn't…but who knows, so I went and bought like eighteen different pregnancy tests, all positive.

"I was harsh with you, and I'm sorry about that. You were stressed, Sookie. I knew you were. And I kept having flashbacks to sitting on the couch waiting for the timer to ding, and her face when she found out. She was devastated. She didn't want Pam. She never did. Still, to this day, I have no idea why Soph went through with the pregnancy.

"And when you told me that you were late, I kept picturing you with that same devastated face. I was sure you were pregnant, positive that I'd have another child whose mother didn't want her. And then you weren't." He finally stopped and took a breath, shaking his head. "You weren't."

I pushed myself up and sat next to him. "I'm not." I hadn't known any of that about Sophie-Anne. Or about Pam. "How do you feel about that?"

"I'm still adjusting." Such a cop-out answer. "How are you?"

"We weren't ready." That probably wasn't the answer he wanted, but it was the one I had. Eric put his arm around my shoulder and pulled me to his side.

"You said, 'we.'" And then he sighed. "I like 'we.' I like being in a 'we' with you. I'm not asking you to give up your identity or to become something you're not. I just…I want to share my life with you. And I want you to share yours with me."

I thought we'd resolved this last night. "I want that too."

"I don't always feel like you want to share with me," he replied.

"You want to share with me?" He said that he did. "Okay, share this. Did you want me to be pregnant?" The look on his face after I asked instantly answered the question. Sad, wide eyes. His mouth a tense line.

"It doesn't matter because you're not. And you don't think we're ready."

"You did," I said quietly. "You wanted another baby."

"We weren't ready. We aren't ready."

"We will be. Eventually." Call it selfish, but I wasn't ready, and if we really were a "we," then both of us as individuals had to be ready before "we" could be ready. "Until then, nothing changes, right? We still have a wedding to plan. And knowing Pam and Ames, they'll want to start planning some monstrosity the second Jase's wedding ends."

"Don't just go along with them to make them happy. Pam knows better. And I can physically restrain Amelia if it comes to that." He smiled. Kind of.

"Thanks, but I don't know what I want. I was thinking a Christmas thing with Evie and Pop-pop. But it's October already. Maybe we should just wait until summer."

"Should I…Do you want me to help? I mean, Pam tells me I need to be involved, but I wasn't sure how you felt about it. I'm willing if you want help planning or whatever. Or not, if you want to do that yourself."

My brain couldn't even really focus on my wedding with Jase's still gnawing through my brain like termites on wood. "Ask me next week." I wiped the sleep from my eyes. "What time is it?"

"Five. You can go back to sleep if you want. I'll wake you in an hour."

I shook my head. My mind was already plowing through the mental list of everything I needed to do today. Lots and lots of cooking. And all of it had to happen after school. It was Friday. A second grade class was coming in to get books in pairs in the morning. And a fifth grade science class was going to use the computers in the afternoon. Plus all my little readers who would need a new book before the weekend.

It was going to be busy today.

"I should get up. Shower."

"Okay."

"Do you…" I don't know why it was so hard to say. I'd said it a dozen times before. We were both being so careful. I hated that. Eric and I weren't careful. We weren't. He looked at me, confusion imbedded in the creases of his forehead. "Do you want to join me?"

He nodded. "I'd love that."

I pulled off my clothes, throwing them into the hamper, as Eric did the same, though he had considerably less on than I did. When all my clothing was gone, I removed the last thing I was wearing—the engagement ring. I handed it to Eric, and he put it on the bedside table next to his glasses. Then he took my hand, walking us to the bathroom. Everything felt deliberate. Careful.

I praised God for the heated tile as he started the shower. It was October, and the cold was creeping in.

"How does it feel?" he asked.

I reached my hand into the shower to test the temperature. "Perfect."

I climbed in, Eric right behind me, and lathered up my hands with soap, rubbing small, sudsy circles down shoulders and arms and sides. Looking up from my work, I saw Eric doing the same thing. But for the first time in a long time, I really looked at him.

It had been since before the lateness thing that we had had sex. And, for the life of me, I couldn't think of why. Holy fuck on a stick. All that time I had spent stress eating and stress dieting, he must have spent working out. I didn't remember his arms being that toned. Or his legs. God, his shoulders were amazing.

Fuck.

He wasn't looking at me, hadn't even lifted his eyes from his abs. But it's like he knew I was staring at him. I licked my lips, and watched as he got hard.

"Can you hand me my shampoo?" I asked.

Eric grabbed it and turned to hand it to me, but I let the bottle slip through my fingers. It dropped to the floor, so I crouched down to get it, looking up at Eric's face, looking directly in front of me at his cock. I wanted it. I wanted him.

I tilted forward, opening my mouth to take him in. Sucking on the head.

And listening to him groan, "Sookie."

Mmm. I'd missed that sound.

I released him from my mouth, kissing his abs, his chest as I stood. "Fuck me."

"What?"

"Oh, sorry. Fuck me. Please."

Eric took a step closer, so that I had to step back. Trapped between him and the shower wall. He kissed along my neck and shoulders as his thumb rubbed my clit. His fingers teasing me, making sure I was wet enough.

Always so considerate.

"Ready?" he asked, his warm, shallow breath tickling my neck. I nodded. "Arms around my neck." I did as he asked, standing on my tiptoes to wrap my arms around him. He lifted me easily, my legs winding loosely around his hips.

When my back was against the slick wall, he pushed into me. And I threw my head back.

"Oww."

"You okay?" he asked.

"Fine. Keep going."

Eric smirked and slowly pulled out. And back in. Only this time, my head fell forward. I kissed and sucked and bit his shoulder and neck as each thrust shook my body. God, how had I let myself go so long without him? No wonder I was going crazy; I was going through Eric withdrawals. Anyone would be crazy.

I became mush in his arms after I came, and he followed right after, though with slightly more control of his limbs than me.

He used the shower wall and my loose grip to keep me up, his body against me. His forehead against mine. "I love you."

"I love you too."

"Is there anything you want me to make for the wedding while you're at school?"

"You want to discuss this now? You haven't even pulled out." I giggled. Yeah, giggled. That's what sex with Eric Northman did to you. It made the higher functioning part of your brain overload.

"I just want to help. You seem stressed. I can take off work and get some of the menu done, so that it'll be easier when we work tonight."

"Yeah. Sure. Thank you. I'll look at the list when we get dressed."

We were in the kitchen when Alexei and Pam woke up. Lex's stomach followed the smell of pancakes, while Pam no doubt went straight to her closet. Lex rolled his eyes when he saw us, grabbing pancakes and going to the table. Eric had a spatula in one hand and was sticking out both arms like a goalie trying to block me from leaving the room.

"No, you don't have to go. Stay with me. Call in sick."

"Can't. Horrible things will happen to the school if I don't go. I'm like Buffy. Which would make you Spike." And then I laughed. Until I started picturing him in black leather.

"Spike? Wouldn't I be more like Angel?" I was torn between smiling that he knew Buffy the Vampire Slayer and horribly offended.

"No, you're definitely a Spike. Angel was boring."

"I don't get you Spuffy people. Spike was an evil bastard. Angel had a soul. He was good, worthy of her."

I scoffed. "I think you mean boring. And he and Buffy didn't have a spark, no passion. Spike and Buffy were exciting; even when they hated each other, I'd rather root for them."

"Say Angel was better for her and I'll let you leave."

I held out my hand, and he looked at me curiously. "You better give me the phone then, because I won't do it." Eric huffed. "Also, that was such a Spike thing to do."

* * *

A/N: Hopefully I don't get angry messages over the Buffy thing, but I guess if you feel really strongly and want to rant, go ahead. Also, what did you think?


	39. Hand Over Your Heart Let's Go Home

A/N: I've missed you all. Finished finals, so I'll be update a little quicker for a while. The Spuffy people overwhelmed the replies, though I did get one reply from a Buffy/Faith shipper.

Disclaimer: SVM belongs to CH.

* * *

Lex and Pam both fled the car like it was going to burst into flames and ran toward Gran's house. Eric rolled his eyes, unfolding his long body to exit my car. In hindsight, maybe we should have taken two cars; we were hauling all the food, the cake, and all of our wedding wear. But hopefully we'd be taking the trip back home with considerably less than we brought.

Eric got the cake, while I grabbed Eric's suit, Pam's dress, and my dress. Eric thought he was being funny when he acted like he was going to drop the cake, but I didn't find it nearly as amusing. That cake was a nightmare to make. Baking was supposed to be my stress reliever, not the source of stress. When he sat it safely on Gran's kitchen table, I lightly smacked his arm.

"That wasn't funny," I told him.

"Kinda was." He smiled at me, completely unaffected.

"No," I pouted.

Eric stepped closer, ignoring the clothes I was holding, and put his arms around my waist. He kissed my forehead and then my lips. As he pulled away, he said, "I'm very, very sorry for upsetting you. Forgive me?" I nodded and stared at his already smiling face.

"Well, it's nice to see one happily engaged couple around here," Gran said as she stepped into the kitchen, an apron covering her dress for the wedding. I stepped out of Eric's embrace to go hug Gran. I felt like I hadn't seen her in ages. Ever since the whole shooting Bill thing, my visits to Bon Temps were extremely limited and brief. It was still difficult to be in the living room

"Are they still miserable?"

"As alcoholics in a dry parish."

"Why are we letting him go through with this? I asked. Eric kissed my cheek and mumbled something about the car, leaving me alone with Gran.

"It's not our choice to make, Sookie. I've talked to him, asked him to really think about what he's doing, if he wants to marry this girl. And he's still doing it. It's his mistake to make."

"And in three months when he wants a divorce and she's nearly ready to pop out his kid, what do we do then?"

Gran sighed and sat down at the table. "Support him. Love him."

"He's not sleeping on our couch." I said as Eric walked back into the room, carrying an armful of appetizers. He laughed. "I'm being serious."

I loved Jason. I did. But that didn't mean I wanted to live with him again. Those sixteen years were more than enough. If he was going to have a kid, he'd need somewhere to live. The plan was for him and the new wifey to move into Eric's old house while they continued looking for something in their price range. My guess was Amy would kick him out of the house and he'd have nowhere to go. I knew I should have been a better sister, but I wanted to be at least planning my wedding by then. I didn't want my plans to be put on hold again because of Jason's mistakes.

Maybe I was being a selfish bitch about that, but it's how I felt.

"Yes, dear," Eric replied. "What do you need me to do?"

"Stand there and look pretty." Immediately Eric fell into a pose that'd make any male model jealous. Damn, he was hot. "Can you get Lex in his suit? And start Pam's hair. She's been cranky all morning so she'll probably fight you on it." He relaxed his stance.

"I know, Sookie. I know." I always did that. I told him things he already knew about his own daughter like I was the expert. All this time, and I still did it. "I'll get them ready." He smiled slightly, not his full bright smile but one that was reassuring enough.

We were still tentative around one another since we made up, but we were getting better, back to our old selves. But we were both being careful, not testing to see how far we could go before we broke. And, frankly, I was okay with that. I wanted us to work back toward normalcy.

Gran and I worked out the order of warming up everything for the reception. And then it was time for me to head to the church to get ready and help the bride get ready. Fun times. Since Eric was braiding a huffy Pam's hair, I asked Lex to drop me off at the Presbyterian church.

"You guys seem better," he said as he pulled out of the driveway. "Less subtle hostility and more blatant adorableness. It's quite disgusting."

I snorted. "We're getting there.

"Good. I would have felt shitty about leaving Pam in a broken home when I go away. And, before you go all 'we're not even married' on me, you have to know that even though you aren't blood, you're her mom. You're more of a mom to her than her own ever was. You were more of a mom to her when you gave her that Alice book and listened to her problems."

"When did you become the serious one?" I teased.

"When you and Eric started ignoring each other and Pam came to my room to ask if you were going to move out."

What? "When was this?"

"A couple of weeks ago."

"Shit."

"Yeah."

I turned in my seat to look at him. "What did you tell her?"

"That even if you moved out, that you'd still be there for her. That you were her friend before you were Eric's girlfriend. I know she puts up a front and acts all tough, but you have to be careful with her. She's really fragile." She was. I knew that. Shit. I needed to take her out and talk to her.

"You're a good uncle-brother." And then he laughed. Thank God. I hadn't ruined that relationship either. Very good news. I missed Lex. I hadn't really realized it until I was back around him, but it had been a long time since we'd hung out. I'd have to fix that. All of us were in need of a fun day.

By ten that night, all the leftover food was divided up, Gran's house was spotless, and neither Amy nor Jason was asking for an annulment, which meant that my job as bridesmaid was over. Thank god. I thought that wedding would never end.

It had gone off smoother than I had predicted. I was sure one or both of them would break down at the altar and call the thing off. But they didn't. And someone had been smart enough to tip the minister off, so that he didn't say, "If there's anyone here who objects…" I probably wouldn't have raised my hand or pulled out a list of reasons why they shouldn't get married. Part of me felt bad for being so opposed. The other part of me knew I was just being protective of my big brother.

Jason had made a lot of stupid mistakes in his life—a lot, A LOT—but I was sure this was going to be the biggest. He didn't love her. He was only doing this because he thought it was the right thing to do.

I slumped down in a kitchen chair, every muscle in my body aching. Eric came back into the house after taking some leftovers and my dress back out to the car. He half-smiled and came around behind me. His long fingers massaged my shoulders, working loose the tense knots.

"What else do you need me to do for you?"

I shook my head. My brain had shut off for the knight. "I just want to go."

He massaged for a few minutes, but stopped when my body felt like butter in a hot skillet. I folded my arms on the table, using them as a pillow for my head. I must have fallen asleep, because the next thing I remember is Eric's arms around me, lifting my body as if it was nothing.

"We can stay the night if you want," he said, staring at me. But my eyes fluttered and would barely stay open.

"Take me home."

I slept most of the ride back to Shreveport, waking occasionally because of the lights or the bumpy roads. But Eric would take my hand in his and rub circles with his thumb. And it would soothe me back to sleep.

I felt it when we pulled up in the driveway. Eric whispered, "Take Pam up to her room," to Alexei. The keys jingled. And then I felt a cool breeze as my car door was opened. He said, "Hold on to me," and leaned down to scoop me up.

Then I was in my bed, shoes off, underneath the covers. The room was dim, and he wasn't there. I stayed awake a few minutes, but he didn't return. Exhaustion overtook me, and I fell back to sleep.

The yellow morning greeted me warmly, snuggled in the covers, snuggled in his arms. He was so good to me. Sweet. And strong. I reached up to rub his arm with my left hand, the light from the window glinting off my ring.

That ring that meant so much, was supposed to mean so much. I didn't want my feelings about Jason and Amy's nuptials to cloud my feeling on my and Eric's weeding. When we got married, it wasn't going to be a circus and it wasn't going to be because we felt obligated. It was going to be because that's what we wanted—a life together. And I knew that's what I really wanted. I knew we'd be happy—maybe not every day but overall and more than we'd be if we were separated.

Eric and sighed and tightened his arm around me.

"Morning." His voice was prickly, still half asleep.

"Let's do something fun today. Let's take Pam to the park."

"Okay. Sounds good."

After a half hour of cuddling and light kissing, Eric and I pulled ourselves out of bed. He took a shower, while I put biscuits in the oven, and then I climbed in after. Pam and Lex were both already up before us, watching TV in the living room. Alexei said that he had to go in for the lunch shift at work, so he couldn't go with us. Pam, however, seemed pretty excited about the idea of going to the park.

We left the house around eleven. Pam was wearing dark denim jeans, something atypical for her. In all the time I'd known her, I couldn't remember every seeing her in jeans. Capris a few times, but never jeans. Not even pants. She very much preferred skirts.

Instead of playing on the slide or jungle gym or swings, Pam was between Eric and I, holding our hands. as we walked down a path. We made it all the way around the park, Pam quoting Frost the entire trip, before she complained that her legs were tired. Eric squatted and she jumped up on his back, and then he took my hand. He smiled at me.

And it felt so familiar. So perfect.

"I love you."

Eric's smile grew wider. "I love you too, Sookie."

"It's just like a Disney movie," Pam said dryly. "Aw. How cute. I can barely contain it."

I laughed. "I love you, Pam."

"Love you too. Can we get ice cream?" I looked at Eric, and he sighed.

"Sure."

That night, after dinner, ice cream, and _Mulan_, Eric and I were in bed. Everything felt so good. Right. I loved Eric. I loved our family. Eric put his arm around my hip.

"I want to get married over Christmas," I blurted. Shit. It was like back when we first met and I had no filter.

He laughed a few times. "Alright."

"Alright." Christmas. That was soon. But it would work. Something small. Yeah. "If you could only invite five people besides you, me, Lex, and Pam, who would you pick?"

I thought I already knew the answer, but it seemed rude to just assume. "Your Gran. My grandparents. Barry, as my best man. And Amelia as your maid-of-honor. Of course, Dawson would show up with her, so that's six." Perfect.

"Let's do it. Let's get married then. Do you want to?"

"Yeah. Let's do it." He kissed my shoulder and pulled me closer, though there wasn't anywhere else I'd rather be.

* * *

A/N: Title comes from "Cold Dessert" by KOL.


	40. Pilgrim Lips

A/N: Long time coming. Like always. Every time I promise to do better I end up doing worse, so I'm not going to promise anything in the hopes that I can do reverse psychology on myself.

This chapter makes me nervous and anxious for your reactions. It's a bit of a sensitive topic to some.

Disclaimer: SVM is not mine.

* * *

"December?" she asked again. I nodded. Again. "_December_? You realize that it is October already, don't you, Sookie? The end of October. The last day of October. And you want to get married in December? There's no time to plan. You don't even have a dress or flowers or a caterer. Why are you doing this to me?"

Her big blue eyes stared accusingly at me. She really thought that I was doing this intentionally to upset her.

"Pam, it's going to be a small wedding. Less than ten people. We're going to eat at one of Barry's restaurants after the ceremony. Your dad owns a flower shop. And I'll find a dress in time."

I was glad she was in a massage chair trying to relax because it looked like she was about to have a panic attack. "But…but…but Amelia and I already planned it all out. Spring wedding. The art gallery gardens. You in a strapless off-white Vera Wang. String quartet playing. It's perfect."

I hated to upset her. But I couldn't…it wasn't what I wanted. "Amelia can do that when she gets married. Me, I want something small. Personal. I don't want a circus."

"Fine. But I still get to be the flower girl, right?" She folded her arms across her chest, pouting.

"Of course."

"Good."

Pam and I were out for our Sunday date. I'd been lax on taking time to be with just her, so she and I went to get manicures and pedicures and then eat at a little deli. At least, that was the plan.

I did a double-take when I saw her. It had been a long time. Since the night I broke up with Bill. And she'd been naked then. And on top of my boyfriend. Lorena. She walked into the salon. When she saw me, she smiled and ignored the staff who were trying to help her. Instead, she walked right up to me.

"Little Sookie Stackhouse, is that you? I haven't seen you in ages." She said it in that patronizing voice of hers. I'd never heard her use it on anyone else. She reserved it especially for me. I was so lucky.

"Hello, Lorena." I aimed for civility. I think it came across like I wanted to hit her with a shovel and drown her in a swimming pool.

"Lorena? Bill's…friend?" Pam asked. Lorena sniffed and stared at her in repulsion, a mirror of Pam's expression.

"Sookie, do you know this child?

"She's my mom," Pam replied, rolling her eyes. "Duh."

Lorena blinked several times, trying to do the math. "But…she's like five." She still refused to address Pam.

"I'm eight. And you hooked up with Bill." Pam made a gagging noise. "Have you been tested?"

Lorena scoffed. "We'll talk soon, Sookie." And then she walked off, pushing a couple of gossiping teenagers out of her way as she exited the salon.

I was still caught up on the whole "she's my mom" thing, but Pam kept talking.

"The sad thing is she's really pretty and snarky and I might almost like her. But she was with Bill, and that's just a deal breaker."

"I used to be with Bill."

"I like to pretend that never happened."

"Thanks."

She said I was her mom. All blasé and causal and like it was common knowledge. She said it without hesitation. I was her mom. Not biologically. But in every way that I could be. I tried my hardest to be there for her.

She hit my arm.

"What?"

"I've been trying to get your attention. Are you mad about what I said to Lorena?"

"No, sweetie. She probably does need to be tested."

She laughed and splashed her feet in the water they were supposed to be soaking in. "I meant about you being my mom."

"No. I'm not mad about that either."

"Can we get ice cream?"

"You had ice cream yesterday. And it's cold outside. And your dad would kill me if I let you have ice cream and candy in the same day."

"Please please please. Please. Please."

"No."

"I liked it better when you were my friend." Ouch. I was quiet as I let that one sink in. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean that."

"I love you to death, Pam. I love the relationship we have. But sometimes I'm going to have to be more like a mom and less like a friend."

"I know. I'm sorry. I didn't mean what I said."

She had her apology voice on, so I knew she was sorry. But it still stung.

"After we eat do you want to go with me to the florist?"

Her lips curled. "I thought you'd never ask"

Pam ate her chicken panini so quickly that I'm sure she didn't taste it (what a waste, especially after she begged for it). And then she had to wait for me to finish my salad. She babbled about wedding colors and what would be in season and on and on. How she knew all of this, I'd never know. Eric restricted her internet access to an hour a day, and she was supervised the entire time by one of us. Most of her time was spent on the American Library Association website.

She took charge at the flower shop, ordering around poor Talbot, the manager, around. He just laughed and played along, murmuring "just like her father" a few times when she got particularly demanding.

"Rein it in, Pam," I said, after she told Talbot that his selection was unacceptable and that we'd go elsewhere. As if we actually would. As if his flowers weren't perfect and beautiful. I finally decided on a bouquet of lilac, lavender roses, and hydrangeas. Even Pam approved.

But then she started planning her basket.

I had to get her out of there.

I was ready to go home, take a nice, long bath, and pass out candy with Ames while Eric took Pam and her little minions out trick-or-treating. It was tradition. Eric always took her out trick-or-treating, even though Glasir also had a huge Halloween party that night. He'd put Tray in charge of it for the night.

I had a nice relaxing bath in the big tub—Eric was a tall man, which meant he needed a big tub, though he rarely used it—and took a short nap. He woke me up by kissing my forehead and saying that Amelia had arrived. And she was being all sad face. That meant best friend time.

As soon as she saw me, Ames went a mile a minute talking about how Tray wanted to meet her dad and about how she was freaking out because she hadn't spoken to her father in years. She didn't want to see him. She hadn't seen him since her parent's divorce. But Tray wouldn't let up.

They'd gotten into a big fight about it.

She kept talking even as Eric pushed Alice in Wonderland Pam out the door. She looked cute. And I was pretty sure she picked it out for me, even though she insisted that if they had had an Elizabeth Cady Stanton costume that she would have worn that.

I did the best friend thing for most of the night—nodding and being supportive, offering her all the chocolate she could ever hope to gorge on. Ames finally calmed down and made up her mind to head to Glasir to see Tray.

Which meant I was alone. Passing out candy. On Halloween.

Like always.

I kept glancing at the clock and then the door and then the clock, waiting for Pam and Eric to come back. I'd never been one to need people, but I had grown accustomed to the near constant chaos and noise at the house. The silence felt uncomfortable, off. Like something was missing some essential part.

I put my iPod into the speaker and turned on Beach House, but it was too mellow so I switched to Sleigh Bells instead. And I danced around the living room like a fool, straightening up as I went. It distracted me so much that I didn't hear the front door open until Pam slammed it in Eric's face. She dropped her bag and candy scattered across the floor.

By the time I registered what had happened, she was halfway up the stairs and Eric was smushing Snickers bars beneath his boots. He chased after her.

"We're going to talk about this."

"No, we're not." And then the slam of her bedroom door.

"Yes, we are."

He made a move to follow her up the stairs, but I chased after him.  
"What's going on? What happened?"

Eric looked at me, his forehead creased in confusion, his mouth hanging open. Both of his hands pulled at his hair. "Yvetta, her little friend. She kissed her."

I blinked a few times. I heard what he was saying, but it wasn't really sinking in. "Pam kissed Yvetta." Saying it aloud didn't make it seem anymore real. "What did you do?"

"I think I yelled." Eric still looked perplexed, as if he wasn't aware of his own actions.

"You think?"

"Okay, I yelled. I freaked out. I mean…does that mean she's…"

I put my hand on his arm. "I don't know. But yelling isn't going to work. Maybe she was just curious. Maybe it was innocent. Or maybe she is. Regardless, you can't make her feel like this was wrong."

"I know. I know." He sighed. "Should I go talk to her?"

"Can I?" Eric nodded slowly. He didn't have the answers for this. His usual self-assured demeanor was stripped away. "Go relax."

I had no clue what I was going to say as I climbed the steps. And even when I knocked on her door, I wasn't sure how to approach the topic. Should I just ask? Was that too blunt? Would she tell me? Did she even know herself? Or were we both blowing things out of proportion? Was it just an innocent kiss between friends?

"Leave me alone."

"Pam, it's me. Can I come in?"

"Is Eric with you?"

"No."

"Did he tell you to come?"

"No."

"Are you going to yell at me?"

"No," I answered again.

"Fine."

She was sitting cross-legged on her bed, still in her Alice costume. I could barely see tears in the corners of her eyes. "Does he hate me?"

"No, sweetie, no. Your dad could never hate you." I sat on the edge of the bed and just looked at her. She was shaking slightly. And her hair was out of place—very un-Pam like.

"He yelled."

"He overreacted. He was a little shocked to see you and Yvetta…"

"I kissed her. I didn't drain all her blood. Geez."

She said it so bluntly. "Do you like Yvetta?"

"Some days."

"I meant—"

Pam interrupted. "I know what you meant, Sookie. I'm not a child." This coming from an eight-year-old. "And I don't know. She's pretty. And I wanted to kiss her. But I don't know. This boy in my class, Malcolm, he's…attractive too."

I nodded. "Okay. That's fine. Is this the first time you've kissed her?"

"Yes," she said quietly. "Will Eric hate me if I kiss girls?"

"There's no way he could ever hate you. He loves you so much, sweetie. We both do. And if you ever want to talk about this, about wanting to kiss anyone, you know you can. I'm always here for you. Always."

"Should I go talk to him?"

"You'll need to eventually. I can be there with you, if you want."

"Tomorrow?" I nodded. And she sighed. "I just want to go to bed."

"Okay, sweetie. We'll talk again tomorrow."

"I love you, Sookie."

"I love you too. Good night."

After I stepped out of her room, I leaned against the hallway wall and took a deep breath. I didn't know what to think. Or do. Or say to Eric. I didn't want to put a label on her. That felt wrong.

I found Eric on the couch, staring off into nothingness. He still looked perplexed and unsure of himself. Not like Eric.

"She wants to talk to you tomorrow."

"Why not tonight?"

"You both need a chance to approach this calmly. She's shaken up. You're shaken up. Tomorrow is better."

"Okay." I couldn't believe he wasn't putting up a fight. "Is she mad?"

"No. No, I don't think so. Upset. Hurt. Unsure. But I don't think she's mad."

"Does she…like this girl? Is she…"

"She wanted to kiss her. And some days she likes her. But this doesn't change anything. She's still the same smart-mouthed kid you've always known."

He laughed once. "I just thought I'd pick up on something like this. We're so close. I thought we were. Why didn't she tell me?"

"She's not sure of anything. She's still figuring it out for herself. We have to let her." He nodded. "And we have to be supportive."

Eric nodded again.

"You're right. Of course." Eric put his arm around my shoulder and tucked me into his side. It felt warm. Cozy. Safe. "Thank you for talking to her."

"Anytime."

* * *

A/N: Thoughts?


	41. Breaks the Morning it Brings

A/N: I really didn't intend to dedicate an entire chapter to this, but it kind of got away from me. I'm not sure how it turned out. And I'm not the best judge. I suck at being impartial.

Disclaimer: SVM belongs to CH.

* * *

He wasn't there when I woke up, but I hadn't expected him to be. Eric was restless all night long. He sighed intermittently at the most obnoxious times, while we were sitting up reading Kafka. Then, when we finally turned off the lights, I tried to kiss him but he got all nervous and antsy and ended it quickly. As if Pam had gotten the idea to kiss from watching us make out.

He moved around in his sleep a lot more than normal. Eric was usually an anchor—once dropped he stayed in place. But he wasn't like that. He was like a kid on Christmas Eve waiting for morning. He pulled and pushed the covers. He continued that annoying sighing. And he rolled over every forty-five seconds like clockwork.

I'm not really sure how I was able to fall asleep in the middle of all his movement, but I did. And even asleep, his nerves were able to prod me. Sleep was shallow. And completely pointless. I woke up just as tired as I had been when I fell asleep.

The smell of bacon wafted from the kitchen. My stomach growled before I even opened my eyes. I could just imagine him in there making all of Pam's favorite foods; we would, no doubt, have way too much food for the four of us.

I slid out of bed, my bare feet padding along the cold wooden floors.

He was standing in the kitchen in just pajama pants, his shoulder blades like tectonic plates, shaking the whole world when he shrugged. My eyes followed his spine from his disheveled but never messy hair all the way to the hem of his pajama bottoms. He was beautiful. A masterpiece. And I still loved to just watch him, look at him, see his muscles tense and release.

I crept up behind him and kissed between his shoulder blades.

"Morning."

Eric's spun around, a nervous smile painted on his face. "Morning."

"How did you sleep?" And when he didn't answer, I asked, "Did you sleep?"

"Enough."

"Ballpark it for me."

"Three hours."

"On what planet is that enough?"

He turned back around to the scrambled eggs, so I hopped up on the counter where I could see his face. "I used to get by on little more than that." Eric happened to look up as I was rolling my eyes. "Honestly. I would stay at Glasir until two. Come home and read until I fell asleep and then wake up and get Pam and Lex up for school."

Oh geez.

"Why didn't you sleep?" He shrugged like he had no idea what caused this sudden bout of insomnia, but he frowned like he knew exactly why. We both knew why. "You know you can talk to me. In fact, it would be better to talk to me about what you're feeling before you verbally vomit all over Pam." Better for him to say something to me that he regrets than something to Pam that he'll regret.

"I don't know what to say to her."

"Well, it's kinda too late to ignore it like it never happened.."

Eric sighed loudly.

The egg timer went off and he took blueberry muffins from the oven. He placed them on a cooling rack and went back to stirring the fluffy scrambled eggs. And he sighed again.

"I shouldn't have yelled." Okay. That was…something. At least he was saying something. "I think we should move."

What?

"What? Why?" He wouldn't meet my eyes, no matter how much I tilted my head and contorted my neck to look at him.

"We live in the South. In Louisiana. Sookie, if she…I don't want her to…Kids suck. They're mean and lash out at what they don't understand. And I don't want her to have to go through that."

I put my hand on his shoulder and he flinched at the contact.

"Your fingers are freezing."

"Eric, she's going to have to face it wherever she goes. That's the world we live in. I know you want to protect her. I do too. But uprooting her now? She's just started to make friends and she's excelling in school. Making her adjust all over again would do more damage."

He turned off the fire and started putting bread in the toaster, his back to me again. "I just…I never ever considered that she wouldn't be…I wanted to walk her down the aisle, give her away."

"Like Pam would let you give her away. She's her own."

His head bobbed. a few times. Eric turned back. "I wanted to see her get married. She won't be able to here. It'll be the last state to allow it."

"No, that'll be Oklahoma." He shrugged. "She's eight, Eric. We don't even know if she is. She doesn't know if she is. And, anyway, she can't get married for a long time. Who knows what the world will look like in ten years?"

"What do we tell her? What do we say?"

He turned around to grab the toast that had popped. He put more bread in as he buttered the fresh pieces.

"That we love her. That we'll always love her."

Lex stumbled in the room, his steps looked more like he was drunk than tired. "You should also tell her not to kiss anyone, because kissing will get you mono and chicken pox."

"I've already had chicken pox," Pam said from the dining room. She stepped into the doorway. "I did. When I was five."

"How long have you been snooping?" Eric asked, trying to look stern.

"You've never had chicken pox. That was a rash." Lex said as he snatched a piece of toast.

"I did too. I went to the doctor and everything."

Lex scoffed at Pam. "Dr. Folger said it wasn't chicken pox."

"What would he know?"

"It's not like he went to medical school or anything. Or that he's been in practice for thirty-five years. What qualifications does he have to tell you whether or not you have chicken pox." Lex rolled his eyes, and he reached for another piece of toast, having already devoured the first.

"Exactly. I think I know my body better than he does. And I say I had chicken pox."

"Whatever."

Lex stumbled through the kitchen, grabbing plates from the cabinets and silverware from the drawers. Pam remained in the doorway with her arms crossed over her chest. She wouldn't look at Eric. And Eric was staring off over her head.

"How did you guys sleep?" I asked, hoping that Pam wasn't ignoring me too.

"Fine, I guess," she said with a shrug.

"Me too. Though I really need to cut back my hours. Work is kicking my ass. I have a research paper due soon that I haven't even started because I'm working like thirty hours a week. And you'll take away the car if my grades slip." Lex shoveled scrambled eggs onto a plate, grabbed a few pieces of toast, and a couple of muffins. Then he went to the table to sit down.

I wished I had his metabolism.

"Pam, are you going to get you anything?" Eric asked.

"I'm not really hungry."

"You need to eat something."

"I said I'm not hungry." She turned on her heels, her footsteps echoing behind her as she ran to her room.

"That went well," Lex said from the table, his mouth full of eggs. While I turned to glare at him, Eric took off after her. That wasn't going to end well.

I filled up a glass with orange juice, grabbed a piece of toast, and sat down at the table with Lex. Half the food on his plate was already missing. I just shook my head. His stomach never ceased to amaze me. It was endless.

"Who do you think is going to win up there?" He pointed with his fork.

"It's not a competition, Lex."

He snorted. "Of course it is. Are you new? They're both so stubborn."

From upstairs, Pam's voice rang out. "It's not okay for me to kiss Yvetta, but you can kiss Uncle Barry and nobody cares?"

"Point for Pam."

"How does she know about that? About Eric and Barry?" She wasn't at the barbecue. And that didn't seem like the kind of story that people go around telling.

"She called Uncle Barry last night."

"When?"

"After you guys went to bed. Right after I got home. She called Gran and Amelia too."

"Why?" She could have talked to me. I told her she could talk to me.

"She said she was worried Eric would kick her out. But she's a drama queen. As if Eric would let her go anywhere. He loves her the most."

I finally took a bite of my toast.

"I meant out of her and me. You're…different. He loves you differently."

"I know you meant. But he loves you differently too, Lex. You really can't compare." He shrugged. "Do you work tonight?"

"I do not. Why?"

"Can you watch Pam after dinner?"

"Sure. Junk food and television. I got it."

"Thank you."

I stared at my toast for a few seconds before putting it on Lex's plate. I wasn't in the mood for food. Instead, I took a shower and got ready for school. The weather was typical Louisiana autumn, but I was a pansy when it came to cold. I put on gray dress slacks and a navy blouse with my cute stilettos. And when I finished, I knew that Pam probably hadn't even started.

I looked at the ceiling, realizing that I hadn't heard either of them in a while and got scared. My heels clacked as I climbed the stairs. I crept to Pam's room and listened through the cracked door.

Pam sighed, sounding exasperated.

"Does it matter? Will it make you love me less? Or more? Does it really matter?"

"I just…I would like to know." His voice was quiet. I had to strain to hear him.

"Yeah, well, I want to know my mom. We don't always get want."

"Pam, we've been through this."

"Why does it matter? I'm going to kiss who I want to kiss."

"You're eight. You shouldn't be kissing anyone until you're at least thirty-five."

She sighed again. "You're such a hypocrite. You're not thirty-five and you and Sookie kiss all the time."

"Yeah, well, I'm not trying to win father of the year."

"You'd be out of the running anyway for all the times you let me have ice cream for dinner."

"I get it, Pam. I'm a horrible father."

"Jesus, Eric. That's not what I'm saying. You're a great dad. I don't care about that stuff. I want you to love me no matter who I like. That's all I want." One more sigh. "I need to get ready. Sookie's waiting." The door swung open slowly. "I heard your shoes on the stairs. You were not blessed with the gift of stealth."

"We need to leave in half an hour to be acceptably late, "I said. Any later and we'd miss the tardy bell. Hopefully traffic would be on our side as well.

"Got it." Pam pulled on Eric arm, directing him toward me. "Take him with you."

But he turned around. He knelt down so that he was eye level with her. "I love you right up to the moon—and back. Always. There is nothing that could make me love you any less."

Then he was up and walking past me, his feet slapping against the wood of the stairs. Pam started crying hysterically. Her legs seemed to wither and she fell straight to the floor. I had her in my arms within seconds, and she latched onto me so tightly that I couldn't breathe.

"Sweetie, what's wrong?"

"H-he…he…still loves me."

"Of course. We both love you. That's not going to change."

She cried all over my blouse, snot and tears making it unwearable. We stayed like that for a good fifteen minutes before I made an executive decision, hoping that Eric wouldn't hate me. I called the school, telling them that Pam was sick and that we wouldn't be coming in today.

She had bags under her eyes. Deep and purple. She couldn't have slept anymore than Eric did. And she couldn't stop crying, though she wasn't gasping for air now. She was in no state to go to school.

I picked her up, carrying her down the stairs as carefully as possible. Bad balance plus stairs plus stilettos plus sobbing child did not equal anything good. I took her in the bedroom, so that I could change. Eric was sitting on the edge of the bed, his head in his hands. I tried to set Pam on the bed, but she clung tighter.

"Eric."

He stood up and gently removed her from me, cradling her in his arms.

"We're not going in today."

He nodded, but stared intently at Pam.

"I'm sorry," he whispered. "I'm so sorry for yelling. For making me doubt me. I will always love you."

"I love you too, Dad."

I pulled off my blouse, replacing it with a comfy t-shirt. And I kicked off my heels. "You two should sleep. I'll wake you up for lunch."

Alexei was sitting in the living room with his phone in his hand, arm outstretched toward me.

What?"

"I'm not going to be the only one going to school today. Call them up."

"Eric will kill me."

"I'll be your best friend."

"Did you really think that would work?"

"I'll clean up breakfast and help you make lunch."

"Fine. Give me the phone." Eric was going to kill me.

* * *

A/N: Chapter title comes from "Being a Mockingbird" by Bobby Long. Thoughts?


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